


A Little Lower Than the Angels

by Medie



Series: Cornerstone - girl!Daniel [12]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 42,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danielle is back. So's Anubis. And what's this about Isis I hear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Over The Rhine's [All I Need Is Everything](http://www.lyricsdownload.com/over-the-rhine-all-i-need-is-everything-lyrics.html) \- specifically _ Slow down/hold still/it's not as if it's a matter of will/someone's circling/someone's moving a little lower than the angels/this voice calling me to you/it's just barely coming through/still I clearly hear my name_. This story is technically a 'reboot' of my [Cornerstone AU](http://medie.livejournal.com/tag/cornerstone). Much thanks to [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/userinfo?user=helen78)[**helen78**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/userinfo?user=helen78) and [](http://killing-rose.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**killing_rose**](http://killing-rose.dreamwidth.org/) and [](http://azarsuerte.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://azarsuerte.dreamwidth.org/)**azarsuerte** for their help and betaing.

There's a blank wall in her head where her memory should be. Malek and the others are no help either. They just look at her with those sympathetic, knowing expressions that scream they know more than they're saying and ask useless questions.

_Do you recall anything? Your name? By what shall we call you?_

She stabs a crystal into the ground, her lip jutting out in a frustrated pout as the programming takes hold and a new complex begins to spring forth. "What's my name?" she mutters, "If I knew my damn name, wouldn't I have said so by now?"

She sits on the sand, cross-legged, feeling the tremors beneath her as the tunnels expand. _"You know, Grandma always said your face'll freeze that way if the wind changes."  
_  
Whirling, she looks back. No one's there, nobody beyond her expected escort, and the disappointment is keen. She closes her eyes and tries to picture the expected face. It doesn't come, but the expectation doesn't go anywhere. It's a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, curling around and pressing down. She shifts on the sand and sighs, staring ahead at the horizon.

She's still there when Malek comes to sit at her side. "You seem troubled," he comments, his voice noticeably devoid of any influence. She's never been able to explain it, the uneasy feeling hearing it creates, but the others tolerate her anyway. None of the Tok'ra speak with it around her and she's grateful for it.

Looking at him, she tries to smile. "I've been troubled from the day you met me."

He smiles, that same knowing smile they all have, and brushes a hair away from her face. "You've been troubled for far longer than that." Not for the first time, she thinks that she can hear a name at the end of that sentence. It's there with only some of the Tok'ra, but she wonders just the same. The Tok'ra keep so many secrets that it would be no surprise if her name happened to among them somewhere.

She shrugs off the comment, unwilling to chase an answer he won't give. Malek accepts her silence with a nod and then settles in at her side. He's been an almost constant companion since she came to the Tok'ra, naked and confused, and her reliance on him is confusing. He's familiar. So much so that, sometimes, she thinks that she knows him. Those moments are so blindingly clear and she's convinced that she's known Malek for years. Not only that, but he's her chance to get home, get back to --

Who?

It's that question that chases those moments away. The clarity muddied by second-guessing and doubt when the answers stay at arm's reach.

She swallows, sifting sand through her fingers and watching the wind catch them away. This is a battle she's had before and she's no closer to victory then when she started.

"You're quiet today," Malek observes. There's amusement in his voice, a trace of the symbiote's timber slipping into the unguarded moment. "I find myself missing your usual flood of questions." He shifts, turning his head to watch her. "Have my answers displeased you?"

"No," she says, too quickly. She flinches. It's mostly the truth. She's had a hundred and one questions about everything the Tok'ra do. Some of it she knows the answers too already, but needs the confirmation. It's reassuring to know that she's just forgotten. She's sure that if she can remember how the crystals work, and the names of hosts and symbiotes both, then maybe everything else is down there too. It's just buried a little deeper.

That maybe she can remember this without the Tok'ra's help and, maybe, that's what they've been waiting for all along.

Malek smiles. "Ah, it is my silence that bothers you then."

She presses her lips together, possible responses tumbling over each other as she tries to sort out an answer which won't sound completely paranoid. "I'm sorry," she finally sighs. "It's just been weeks. Months." In the Tok'ra tunnels days can blur and the first few weeks of her time among them are a fevered blur. She still can't sort out what happened or how she came to find them. "I can't help feeling like you all know me."

"And this feeling you believe comes from -- "

Sitting back on the sand, she tips her head back, letting the sun warm her skin. "Oh, everything? It's in the way people look at me, talk to me, _don't_ talk around me. There's nothing that I can pin down, but I know."

He sighs. "Metit -- "

"See, even that," she says, pouncing before he can continue. "You keep calling me that, and I know that it means righteous, but that's all I know." She had known it from that first time, recognizing a language she couldn't name, but spoke fluently. _Why_ they called her that no one will say, no matter how any times she asks, or how frustrated she gets. They just smile. A bemused thing so similar to the smile Malek had given her when he'd thought of it. There's a secret wrapped up in the name, just like there are secrets wrapped up and hidden in everything the Tok'ra do, but this one is about _her_. "Everyone calls me that, even the people that I don't even remember meeting. It's as if they remember something I don't." And she knows that they do. She can feel it in the silence and the way Malek can't quite look at her. "You took a tremendous risk when you gave me shelter. I know that, but if there's something that I should know, Malek, you _need_ to tell me." About the only thing they have told her about it is the meaning of the name. Not until, of course, she'd figured it out for herself. The Tok'ra have a terrible sense of timing.

"We took no risk," Malek says, easily avoiding her comment. It's all she can do not to shove him into the sand. As much as she likes him, this is beginning to drive her a little crazy. "I assure you, Metit, if the system lords were to attempt an infiltration, they would not send to us a half-dead, naked woman lying delirious in the snow."

She shivers, remembering. "Well, you have to admit, if they had, it would've worked. It's the last place you'd expect to find a Goa'uld spy."

That gets her a smile of amusement. "True, it certainly would be." Someone moves out on the horizon and Malek looks, his sharp gaze following their progress across a sand dune. She can't make out who it is, but knows he can. "But, if you are a spy, you are a terrible one."

"Gee, thanks," she says, dry as the desert.

He laughs. "It is a compliment, Metit. Accept it as such."

She makes a face. "As honored as I know I should be, I'm going to have to pass."

"And this would be why we call you Metit," he says. "It is a personality trait that memory, or lack thereof, cannot erase."

Annoyed, she sits in her hands. It would be rude to shove him face first into the sand. It _would be_ rude. Rude and the funniest thing she can remember seeing in, well, _ever_ and she's just going to ignore how that's technically cheating. "I just want to know what I'm doing here, Malek. People don't just fall from the sky, naked."

Malek shrugs. "You did." He stands, holding out a hand to her. "Come, the tunnels should be well-established by now. Let's go inspect your handiwork."

"Oh yeah," she says, "I just worked my hands to the bone shoving it into the sand." She did, technically, program the crystal too, but that wasn't hard. Not with Malek and another Tok'ra standing there shepherding her through the whole thing, helping her when her eyes got too tired to keep going. She's been pushing them to let her try a little bit of everything for a while. There's an eagerness lying beneath her skin, a restless push to be doing _something_ and her fingers itch to hold books and a pen. God, she misses pens.

She's not even sure what a pen is. Closing her eyes, she catches a glimpse of something slim and black, ink flowing across a page as her hand moves with it. Ah. _Right_. In a frustrating display of irony, she can remember the feel of the paper beneath her hand, hear the scratch of the nub against it, and for a moment it's all so clear that she wants to scream. Instead, she sighs and files the information away with the other bits and pieces of her fragmented memory. It's not much of a victory, but she's learning to take what she can get.

"You will remember, Metit," Malek assures, still patiently waiting for her to take his hand. "I have never known you to fail before."

She scowls at him, but lets him pull her up anyway. "You realize that when I remember, I'm probably going to be furious with you?"

Malek smiles. "No, you won't." He starts across the sand, heading to the rings. "You will have far greater concerns on your mind than my reticence."

"That's what you think," she says, struggling to follow. The sand has shifted with the tremors and walking proves difficult. She's irrationally annoyed, unable to escape the conviction she should know how to do this, dammit. Her feet won't behave, slipping and sliding through the sand, and for a second she can hear laughter. Male and female, mixed together and overlapping, full of indulgent affection. She stops dead, pinwheeling to stay upright, her mind trying to chase the memory to faces.

Like always, she hits that wall and shakes her head. "Someday," she mutters, annoyance deepening into anger, "I'm going to remember and somebody dies." There's one thing she's sure of, one thing she's known from the moment she woke up with the Tok'ra staring down at her, and that? Is the fact this is no accident. Someone did this to her and they did it on purpose.

She can't explain her certainty, she can't remember a thing to verify it, but she is certain. For whatever reason, someone did this to her and she is going to find out who.

-

It isn't that she's claustrophobic (at least, she doesn't _think_ she is, she'd know if she was, right?) or anything, but she can't sleep underground. Every night, it's the same routine. After a few hours of tossing and turning, she's on her feet and pacing her small room.

She reads, she sleeps, she dreams, and she wakes. The dreams make no sense. They're full of nonsensical images and sounds, purely random bits and pieces, she's left to assume, of the life she doesn't remember.

Tonight, she reads as long as possible, pouring over the texts that the Tok'ra allow her to read, searching for anything that's familiar. It's nothing recent, just stories of their beginnings, stories that are more legend and myth than cold hard fact. Some things seem tantalizingly familiar, but nothing concrete.

Her eyes are gritty and heavy as she finally admits that she's exhausted. With a sigh, she puts the reader aside and waves a hand over the light crystal. It dims and she settles down. She won't be asleep long, she knows that, but it doesn't stop her from dropping off in seconds.

_The lacquered floor is cold beneath her palms, but not as cold as it should be. _ Shock_, she realizes. The energy from the staff weapon cauterized the wound, but not enough to make a difference. She's bleeding to death, blood flowing free with every beat of her heart, soaking her BDUs a shinier black._

Lifting one hand to the wound, she presses curious fingers against it. The energy it takes to lift her hand is telling. There isn't nearly enough pain either.

"Definitely shock."

She rests her head against the column behind her, feeling the carvings digging into her scalp. She doesn't have much time. Not much consolation, but if the others fail, at least she won't live long enough to see it happen.

"They won't," she promises herself. A tantalizing idea pushes it's way through the haze settling over her thoughts and she looks back the way they came.

The sarcophagus.

Considering it, she debates her chances. Moving will mean dragging herself over the floor, reopening the wound, and bleeding out faster. Still – there's a chance. "Probably won't make it," she decides, easing forward. She settles onto her side, inching forward at a snail's pace.

At this rate, she'll die when the c4 detonates, going up before she can even reach the sarcophagus. "Better than the alternative," she says, smiling grimly as she starts forward.

She twists, rolling onto her side, her legs tangling in the sheet. It pulls her out of the dream, the memory fading with it. Frustrated, she kicks out at it, the motion tugging it down around her hips, leaving her chilled. With a sleepy grumble, she pulls it back into place. The images are slipping with the intrusion and she settles back to try and catch them before they're gone.

_Sunlight filters through the window, the soft light of pre-dawn slowly fading into morning. It doesn't wake her, it doesn't get the chance. By the time the first tendrils of warmth fall across the bed, she's already very, very awake. Hands slide over her legs, lips following their path up and skimming along the soft skin of her inner thigh. This is familiar and easy. The slightest touch of his hands, nudging her the way he wants, and she's moving to accomodate him. It's comfortable and unconscious. _

He touches her sending shivers of want along her body, making her twist and moan. His lips on her stomach, moving over the curves of her body, and the way he groans when she rubs against him. It's heavy with want, promising, and she licks her lips.

He chuckles against her and she responds by moaning and pressing her head back into the pillow. Her body rising up to chase the mouth and the tongue playing over her body. She reaches for him, hands moving blindly for him, eager to feel his skin beneath her palms. In return, his hands tighten on her hips, holding her still, pressing her into the mattress.

He rises to press a kiss between her breasts, surprising her by blowing a raspberry into her skin. She squeals, laughing, and she grabs at him, her hands trying to grasp short hair, skidding and failing to find their grip as he pulls away.

He doesn't laugh in response, not this time, but she feels his smile against her skin as he suck a nipple between his lips.

She tugs on his ears, playful, and he starts to look up --

She opens her eyes, instantly awake, body alert, wet, and _ready_. Frustrated, she turns her head. Something woke her. There's nothing, but after a moment the sound of crystals being picked up in the corridor tells the tale.

"Doors," she says, sliding out of bed. "I miss doors." She's tempted to go into the corridor to see who it was, but decides to be nice. She would have woken up anyway, her mind unable to follow the memory to its conclusion, and its not their fault that she's cranky.

"It wouldn't be so bad," she decides, "if I'd stop waking up right before someone says my name." If she didn't know better, and she's not sure she does, she'd swear someone was deliberately keeping the memories at bay. It would be just the kind of luck she's been having lately.

Sighing, she goes to the basin, catching water up in her palms to splash across heated cheeks. Some of the dreams are better than others, fuzzy faces and voices closer than other times.

The memories of the sex linger, just like the feeling of her lover's touch on her skin. She can still feel his lips on her shoulder, neck, breast, fingers between her thighs, confident and experienced, and she'd been so close. Her cheeks flush with the memory and she closes her eyes. She can almost see his face, hear his voice whispering something that might be her name, but nothing clearly. Like everything else, her dream lover remains a mystery.

She looks at the bed, a slab of crystal with silvery cushions and pillows. The thought of lying down and facing him again twists her stomach and she turns away. It's bad enough to look in the mirror and not know who was looking back. This introduction that there is a _someone_ out there is harder to face than she had thought.

In the beginning, when she'd first woken up, she'd hoped there was someone. That when she remembered, _if_ she remembered, there would be a home to go back to and someone waiting inside it.

Now, she wishes there wasn't. Somehow, it's worse knowing that there might be someone missing her. She doesn't know who she's forgotten, but they do.

Unable to sleep, she does what she does most nights. She wanders.

Still mulling the fragments of her dreams, she sits on the edge of her bed and puts on her shoes. The Tok'ra heat the tunnels, but their symbiotes mean no one really notices the cold. The simple shirt and pants she wears for sleeping are warm enough to wander the tunnels, as long as she wraps herself in a cloak, but thin socks alone are out of the question.

She laughs, realizing how much attention she's paying to her _feet_. She's tired, too tired, and quite possibly a little punchy.

Shaking her head, she leaves her room and emerges into the dim tunnel. The Tok'ra are used to her nocturnal wanderings. At first, she'd always had a companion when she'd taken to prowling the tunnels. She lightens her step as she passes the rooms of the others, but there's no point. Half of them are up, host or symbiote taking some private time while the other rests, and the other half don't look.

Shrugging, she pulls her cloak closer, warding off the underground chill and keeps going. At least, that is, until she stops. Malek's voice, soft with its insistence, catching her attention. He's speaking naturally, making no attempt to hide that it's the symbiote speaking, "She is not ready."

Another voice, rough and familiar, snaps back, "Like hell she's not. She doesn't know us, Malek. How the hell is she going to remember anything surrounded by strangers?"

A name springs to her lips, not quite ready to pass, and she feels her heartbeat speed up. They're talking about her. Whoever the newcomer is, he's on her side and, silently, she urges him on.

"And how will you explain her condition to the Tau'ri?" Another voice, another councillor, asks. "Selmak, she is one of their most valued scientists. Returning her to them a virtual blank slate will not be received well."

"Are you kidding me?" Selmak – she's heard the name before. One of the oldest Tok'ra. The most influential Tok'ra. How does he know _her_? – asks, astonished. "They think she's _dead_. Getting her back at all is going to be one hell of a Christmas gift come early. For crying out loud, _O'Neill_ will throw you a tickertape parade himself."

O'Neill.

The name hits a chord. Something deep in her chest tightens and she _knows_. It's not a miraculous moment. No light switches on as information floods into her brain. It's nothing like that, but it's everything just the same. A quiet certainty settles into her breast, convincing her that, yes, she is going to remember and the man who will help her do so is standing just inside that door.

"She needs to know who she is and if you won't tell her, then by God, I'm going to."

"And risk damaging relations between us and the Tau'ri?"

That question is from Thoran. Leaning against the wall, she grins and pictures the look on his face. Among the Tok'ra, Thoran is one of the more even tempered, but just the same even he sounds weary. If Selmak is right and she is one of the Tau'ri, she thinks she should probably be embarrassed.

She isn't. There's a tiny bit of rebellious glee dancing in her heart and she leans closer to listen.

"Damage relations?" Selmak snorts. "Look, if Jack O'Neill finds out you're holding her here, he'll blow 'em to hell and back to get to her."

"We are not 'holding' her here, Selmak," Malek argues. "She sought us out. We have done nothing but give her shelter."

"Oh sure, if you ignore the part where you didn't tell her who she was, didn't tell the SGC you had her, and didn't even tell _me_." Selmak snorts. "Better work on that story, Malek, I'm not sure anybody on Earth is gonna buy it." His voice gets closer, he's leaving the chamber, and she backs up quickly. Her room is too far, but she can at least put some distance between them. "Just hope to God and all the angels that they believe you."

They won't. She doesn't remember them, but she knows they won't.

Not wanting to get caught, she doesn't stay to hear the council's response. However ridiculous things might be, it's finally becoming clear just how complicated her situation with the Tok'ra truly is.

"I've created an intergalactic incident and I wasn't even trying," she says, sighing.

"Yeah, well, you always did have a knack for doing that." Selmak's voice behind her, pitched for her ears alone, halts her escape. She presses her lips together, mouth gone dry, and doesn't turn. She's not quite ready to face him yet. "Course, you're actually better at smoothing them over. Jack's the one who starts them."

That makes her smile. "I think I might like this guy." Not that it would be hard. This Jack sounds like someone important, but she'd like a barracuda right now if he knew her address. It's desperate and she feelings pathetic admitting it, but there it is. She needs to know there really is someone waiting for her, that her mind isn't just stringing together half-baked dream memories to keep her going.

"Actually, Danielle, he drives you crazy."

Danielle. _Danielle_. She seizes on the name, mind repeating it like a mantra, unaware she's saying it aloud until she feels hands on her shoulders. She's surprised to see Selmak standing in front of her. He's looking at her like she's a long-lost child and, she supposes, she very well might be. "Selmak -- "

"Jacob," he corrects. "Most of the time, you just call me Jacob."

She looks at him, trying to remember. "No, I don't think that I do."

He grins, bright and happy. He's almost giddy to see her. Which feels dizzyingly good. Danielle – and _that_ feels even better – finds herself feeling the same giddiness. This man _knows_ her. He knows her. He remembers. Even without telling her a thing, she feels different. Grounded. She belongs somewhere, to someone, and that they're still waiting for her. It's real. Danielle feels like dancing and she doesn't even know if she knows _how_. "Well, in the beginning, you just called me General Carter. You might be remembering that."

"I'm not remembering much of anything," she confesses. "It's just a feeling." Most of everything right now is relegated to the realm of feelings and guesses and she says so, adding, "I've been trying to stitch it together into something coherent, but -- "

"No joy," Jacob nods. "You're trying too hard. If you relax, and if we can get you into some familiar surroundings, you'll stand a better chance of shaking something loose."

"Familiar surroundings," Danielle repeats the words like a prayer. She closes her eyes. There's a moment, but only just, where she thinks she can see cool grey walls and brightly-colored lines on floors. Then she blinks, opening her eyes to Jacob's face, and it's gone. "I don't think I know what those would be. I mean, I have an _idea_, but I can't remember much of anything really. It's just fragments."

"Lucky for you, I do," Jacob says, still grinning. For a moment, he stops and just looks at her. She stares at him blankly, watching the way his eyes search her face. "God, it's good to see you again."

She smiles. "It's good to be seen. You don't know what a relief it is." There's no real way to describe it either. The unimaginable relief of looking into someone's eyes and seeing the recognition of a friend looking back. A _real_ friend.

Which is a thought she regrets just as soon as she has it. Malek's been a friend. Host and symbiote both. She doesn't doubt for a minute they care about her, but there's that a selfish part of her that screamed with joy the second she heard Jacob and Selmak speak. Even not remembering who he is, she still felt everything change. Some small part of her that's sure this is how she's going to get home and regrets or no regrets, she won't ignore that.

"Oh, I have an idea," Jacob says. "Which is why we're going to get you home ASAP. You're safe here, but the best chance you've got at remembering anything is getting you back to Stargate Command." He tucks an arm around her waist, guiding her back down the corridor toward the sleeping quarters. There's something else he wants to ask, she can see it in the look he keeps sneaking her way and she wants to tell him to just come out with it when he goes and does. "So, you have any idea on why you don't remember?"

And she wishes he hadn't asked. She's been asking herself that question from the moment she looked up and found Malek looking down. Closing her eyes, she tries again to push past the wall of black and gets the same response. Absolutely nothing. "No, nothing." She presses her lips together, breathing out through her nose. "I have moments, sometimes, where I can _almost_ remember. When I know that I should know something, but it never goes anywhere. I know a few names of people around here and some of the technology, but anything concrete? Nothing."

Frustration leaks into her words, just the barest trickle compared to what she's actually feeling, and she can tell Jacob can see it. His eyes shift, soften, and he nods. It's the opening she's been looking for. "I remember a device. The Tok'ra use it in memory recall." A woman screams, _"Turn it off, oh God turn it off!_, and Danielle's stomach lurches, her palms sweat, but she can't see the face beyond the grimace of agony. "Without knowing what caused my memory loss, Malek's been reluctant to let me use it, but -- "

"You still want to try." Jacob looks annoyed. "Well, hell, Danielle, if I wasn't sure it was you before. All the things you could have remembered, you had to go and pick that one." He shakes his head. "Not like I should be surprised. Jack's been one hell of a bad influence on you."

She doesn't know why, but the comment, and the aggravation behind it have her smiling. More than that, she's amused in a way she can't remember. It's familiar and comfortable and her throat tightens with the longing for more of it. "I think," she says, mulling it over, "that I'm going to take that as a compliment." Even if she has a sneaking suspicion, based on her feelings, that she wouldn't if she could remember.

Jacob's chuckle confirms it. "Danielle, we should just focus on getting you home."

"Where I _might_ remember?" she asks. "Tell me something, Jacob, if I go there, what are the chances we'd ask for the Tok'ra's help?" He opens his mouth, but she holds up a hand. "Let me take a stab at it. We'd be pretty damn desperate, but if we had to -- "

"When it comes to you?" Jacob nods. "Jack will do whatever he damn well has to."

Which brings all sorts of interesting implications to the table, but she shelves them for now. She's been running scatterbrained trying to remember and it hasn't worked. Right now there's a concrete chance of it standing in front of her and risks be damned, she's going to try. "Please, Jacob, if there's a chance that I could remember, I have to take it."

And that's where things get complicated. While she needs to remember for the usual and obvious reasons, Danielle can't escape the urgent _need_ to remember. Whether she can explain it or not, and right now she can't, she knows that she has to and, worse than that, she knows they're running out of time.

"Please."

He looks at her, eyes troubled, "You have no idea what you're asking of me."

"Actually, I think I do," says Danielle. "Like I said, I remember fragments, but -- " She breathes in, out, letting the glimpse of memory play out. "I think that I was there when it was used on someone. It's only a second, but I remember a woman screaming to turn it off. I can't be sure, but every time that I think about the device, I remember something like that."

Jacob mutters an oath, Goa'uld, and shakes his head. "I can't believe I'm thinking about this."

"You aren't," Danielle tries to say with a light-hearted smile. She knows that it comes out more like an awkward grimace. She has a moment, seeing someone laughing at her, but its gone again before she can pin it down. "I am. You're trying to think of ways to talk me out of it."

"Yeah?" he raises an eyebrow. "You pick up some fancy mind reading techniques while you were -- " he pauses. "Wherever it was you went." The last comes out in a slightly guilty tone of voice that Danielle's become intimately familiar with during her time with the Tok'ra. Another piece of the puzzle sitting right in front of her that she's not going to be allowed to have. Jacob remembers something, something important, and he isn't going to tell her.

The fact that it's supposed to be for her own good makes her want to ball up her fists and scream. Possibly also punch him. Which would probably be rude and not do much to convince him to help her, but she also doesn't think it would be much of a surprise.

She lifts her chin, trying to look superior, but ends up shrugging sheepishly, "Whether I did or not, I can't say. I can't remember that either."

Jacob pats her shoulder. "It's probably for the best. If you're back here, I imagine whatever happened there wasn't anything anyone would want to remember."

Danielle nods. "I have a feeling you're right." And she does. She's been desperate to remember everything since the moment she woke up, but not that. Not really. When she tries to remember, it's always half-hearted, like walking onto a crumbling bridge. Every step a disaster waiting to happen.

No, what she wants to remember lies beyond that bridge and maybe that's the problem. She's too afraid to cross it.

"Let's do it, Jacob," she says, quiet and firm, "before I lose my nerve."

He smiles, "What about mine?"

*

The device is exactly as she remembers it, which is small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. At least some parts of her memory are still working.

"This is going to pinch a little," Jacob warns, pressing it against her temple.

He's lying. It stabs deep, sharp, and Danielle yelps. "PINCH?"

He grins. "Consider it a last chance warning."

"Duly noted," Danielle nods, "but we're still doing this. I _have_ to." She brushes her fingers over the device, rubbing her fingers around it to soothe the still-stinging skin. "You have no idea what these past few months have been like."

Jacob chuckles, sitting down in front of her. The chamber is a small one, his knees almost brushing hers, but it's the best they can do. Any closer to the main tunnels and they risk being interrupted.

Somehow, Danielle has the sense that the Council would certainly _not_ approve and she's in no hurry to confirm that suspicion.

"Just so we're clear. I not only don't like the idea of doing this, I hate the idea of doing this." Jacob lays a hand on hers. "Doc, we haven't got a damn clue what this could do to you."

She raises an eyebrow. "Selmak has no opinion?"

Jacob glowers. "Selmak is unavailable at the moment."

Smug, Danielle points at him. "Selmak agrees with me."

"Selmak misses you," sighs Jacob. He looks weary. "We both do, but Selmak's willing to go a little farther than I am." He smiles a little. "I don't want to lose what we got back."

"You won't," Danielle insists. "I know that much." She leans back against the cool stone. "All right, how does this part work exactly?" She swallows, watching Jacob pick up the control device. She is sure that it'll be all right – mostly – but there's a Goa'uld device in her head - okay, Tok'ra, but that's splitting hairs – and she doesn't have a single good memory about it.

True, she doesn't have many memories period, but she's going to overlook that part. At least for now.

Jacob wiggles the control device at her. "I turn it on, we mess around with the settings, and, if we're very lucky you remember something without your brain exploding."

Laughing, Danielle shakes her head at him. "My brain isn't going to explode."

He grins, wry and knowing. "Believe me, the luck we have, I wouldn't go betting money on that."

Danielle's laughter transmutes into an annoyed frown. She doesn't need the reminder. Whatever it is that they all know about her, they aren't in any great hurry to share it, and it's really starting to get under her skin. She's seized of the conviction that not so long ago she could have just reached out and plucked the information from his mind. That the banalities of the human, and symbiote, mind were no obstacle or challenge.

She frowns harder, furrowing her brow as she rides the feeling. She can't explain it, can't even begin to guess how she could do it, but it's a certainty. It's also a certainty that twists her stomach with revulsion. She could do it, it wasn't hard, but she also knows that she _wouldn't_. That the others would frown on it, but not nearly so much as she would.

"With great power comes great responsibility," the quote springs to her lips and Jacob laughs.

"Spider-man."

"What?" Danielle looks up. "What man?"

"Spider-man," Jacob repeats. "It's a comic book. Well, it's a movie now too. Either way, that's what you were quoting. My grandkids made me watch it." He chuckles. "Selmak swears he hated it, but he still watched it twice." He taps his skull. "Forgot to put the dvd back in the case."

She grins. "So I watched superhero movies?"

"At least one." Jacob nods. "Jack probably got you into it. Either that or the whole team. It doesn't really seem like your type of fare, but it's right up their alley."

"I don't know," Danielle shrugs. "But maybe." She looks at the device in his hand, she wants to know for herself, what her fare is. She wants to know so many things and if it can tell her, then she's going to try. "Are you ready?"

"No," Jacob sighs, "but that's not going to stop you, is it?"

"No," she grins and settles back. "Okay. When you're ready." She closes her eyes, not wanting to watch the process for some reason, and waits for the flood of memories to come. She's so tired of not knowing. Not being sure about anything. She grits her teeth, her nails digging sharply into her palms, and lets the sharp sting of the device settle her nerves.

She doesn't try reminding herself that it probably won't work. She's not in the mood to listen anyway. Exhaustion, frustration, and a good old-fashioned dose of stubborn have her working up a good mad and she wants to hope. She needs to. If she doesn't hold onto something, she thinks she might go a little bit crazy, but then she's that already.

The device whirs softly next to her ear and Danielle catches her breath. The moments tick by slower and slower, anticipation dragging the seconds into years and decades. She ages a century in the wishing. So much so that when the first memory roars to life, exploding into her mind like a bomb, Danielle's caught off guard.

Of course, with the images playing out behind her eyes, she's got good reason.

"Do you see anything, Danielle?"

She's only marginally aware of Jacob's question, focused on the images slowly taking form in her mind. It all seems familiar somehow, the onyx floors, gilded walls and intricate carvings. She's been here before, she knows that, but the names and answers remain as stubbornly out of reach as ever.

Jacob repeats his question. His hand closes around hers, holding tight. It's a grounding presence that Danielle clings to. Somehow, facing down her memories isn't as liberating as she might have thought. She takes a breath, slow and measured, and squares her shoulders. "There's a throne."

Like everything else around her, it's familiar and not all at once. Danielle narrows her eyes, concentrating harder as the device whirs. The sound of it fills her awareness and, as she watches, a body begins to materialize on the throne. Pulled free from her memory by the device and her own determination.

It fights her, Danielle can feel the battle, but, bit by bit, the body forms a face.

And a name.

"Ra," Danielle breathes. She knows him. Youthful features, ancient eyes, and a fury that fills the room. The Supreme System Lord. "I know you."

"Ra?" Jacob asks. "Are you sure? Danielle -- "

She doesn't hear the rest. His voice growing more distant by the second, a faint echo in the filling throne room. She remembers this part. At least – Danielle falters, hesitates, and frowns. "No. I didn't -- "

Pain lances through her temple and she cries out, a hand going to the device. Her fingers encounter nothing but flesh and Danielle freezes. Around her, the memory springs to life and everything explodes at once. Jack, yes, that's his name, _Jack_ moves. He dives for a Jaffa, wresting the staff weapon from his grip and rolls. When he comes up, weapon leveled at Ra.

He fumbles, trying to fire, and the children surrounding Ra rush to his defense. Danielle watches Jack hesitate, horror filling his eyes, and she's moving even before the Jaffa react.

Launching herself forward, she yells a warning, but it's too late. One of the Jaffa fires, fire and energy spitting from the weapon's maw, headed straight for him. She knows what's going to happen next and, oddly, she's okay.

It doesn't hurt at first when the blast hits her. She knows the wound is fatal, there's no way around that, and smiles as she lands in Jack's arms. She _remembers_ something. She remembers this.

She looks up at him, confident in her victory, and dies.

Someone moans in pain. Quiet and low. Hands shake her and Danielle opens her eyes, surprised to realize that she's alive. "I'm fine," she says, rough and weary, suddenly exhausted. "Really, Jacob."

She reaches up again, feeling the device exactly where he placed it, and frowns. "Mostly. It felt strange."

"It should've hurt like hell."

Danielle laughs a little, regretting it as the pain returns. "It did. It just – for a moment, things went off track. I, uh, I think I forgot that it was a memory. It was _real_. I couldn't feel the device, I, uh – "

"You said you saw Ra. As in -- "

"As in _Ra_," Danielle tries to focus, pulling the fragments of memory into a picture of what she saw. "A thousand years into the sky is Ra, the sun God and – That sounds familiar." She stands up, leaving the small room in favor of the corridor. It's not much better out there, the weight of the rock pressing down, but she can breathe. That's something.

She slows, trying to calm her breathing. Gaining some control, she turns around to look at Jacob. He's watching her with wary eyes, like he's not sure she isn't going to start running for the hills. She laughs at the thought. Which hills? She has no idea where she should be running to.

"This is going to sound completely insane, I know, but considering our current situation, it might not." She's an amnesiac who turned up, naked, on an alien's doorstep and he's a man with an alien snake wrapped around his spinal column. Compared to that, what are a few memories of dying? "I'm alive, right?"

Jacob blinks. "Are you -- Of course you are. Believe me, sweetheart, if this is heaven, we're getting seriously shortchanged." He looks at the device in his hand. "Maybe I had this thing turned up too high. You were fighting it pretty hard."

"I wasn't," Danielle says, shaking her head. "At least, not consciously."

"Well, it took pretty much everything the device had to power through the blocks your head was putting up." Jacob steps forward, cupping her chin in his palm and turning her away. His fingers touch the device, probing it curiously, as he adds, "For a second there, I was seriously starting to think I was going to fry your brain and Jack was gonna kill me." He grins. "He still might."

"I won't let him," Danielle says absently. She frowns to herself, almost missing the surprise her casual reference to Jack pulls out of him. "Jacob, I died. One of Ra's Jaffa shot at Jack, with a staff weapon, but it hit me. Ra was there -- " she looks at him. "If it was _the_ Ra, the Supreme System Lord Ra, then do I remember him? I thought that Ra was killed years ago."

Something tugs at her memory. A bright flare of light in the sky. "He was," Jacob says, looking perplexed. "God, must be about ten or twelve years ago now."

Danielle folds her arms and steps back from him. She needs the distance, suddenly uncomfortable with his proximity, and Jacob doesn't follow. "You're looking at me like I should already know the answer."

Jacob hesitates, then shrugs. "You should. If you remember being in the throne room, Danielle, you're not far off the answer yourself."

It's not news. Danielle can almost feel the answer. "Someone did this to me, Jacob. Someone had to. It wouldn't be so damn hard to remember otherwise." She throws up her hands. "I know I should know this, but every time that I try to remember -- "

"You hit a wall?"

"I hit reinforced concrete!" Danielle snaps. "It's just -- " Shaking her head, she sighs. "All I know is that I was there and that the Jaffa killed me. Why, I have absolutely no idea. What happened next, I can't tell you that either. I was dead. How I ended up alive and everything else? That's all still just a blank." Which doesn't explain her certainty that someone did this to her, but she is certain. This wasn't accidental. "Either way, we're missing the main point. How is it that I remember _Ra_."

She looks at Jacob, expectant.

He exhales heavily, letting it out in a quick gust of air. "You remember Ra, Danielle, because you and Jack were the ones that killed him," Jacob explains. "Believe me, Selmak says it raised one hell of a ruckus around here when he died."

Not a happy one she expects. The Tok'ra have never been good with change. She knows there are active strategies in effect that were conceived nearly a thousand years ago.

"Obviously we managed to kill him sometime after he killed me?" She lifts a hand to her chest, touching the spot where the blast struck, almost surprised not to find a gaping wound where her heart should be.

"Once or twice." Jacob says, hedging the answer.

Danielle presses her lips togther, glaring at him. "_Jacob_."

"You'd be surprised how many times you've died, Danielle," he says with some reluctance. "It's an impressive number."

"_Times_?" Danielle echoes. "I -- " she swallows hard. "I'm beginning to see why no one wanted to tell me."

Jacob pats her arm, looking sympathetic. "Believe me, Danielle, it only gets worse from here."

She laughs, drained by the admission. "I was afraid you'd say that." He reaches for the device, ready to take it out, but she stops him. "No, leave it."

With a frown, Jacob lets her push his hand down. "Are you sure? I don't like the idea of just leaving it. It could -- "

"It could shake something else loose." Danielle touches it, feeling the alien metal warm beneath her fingers, and smiles. "I just want to try, Jacob. Let it work on a lower setting. Over time with me relaxed, it might help."

"Maybe," he says, "but I want it at the lowest possible setting. I don't want to take any unnecessary risks, Danielle. Not when we don't know what caused the amnesia to begin with."

She nods. "All right." Breathing deep, she tips her head and lets him go to work. It's a risk, but she doesn't care. Not right now. She needs to do this before she loses her nerve and that, she thinks, could vanish at any second.

When he's done, Jacob steps back. "I'm not going to ask if you're sure about this."

"Good," Danielle says, her smile a little shaky. "I'm not sure what my answer would be."

He chuckles. "I thought as much. Just, be careful, all right? Whatever sent you back here, it might not be something you want to remember."

"Maybe not," she says, turning away, "but I'm going to just the same. I'm not sure I have a choice."

-

It's all so very surreal. Splashing water on her face, Danielle runs her hand over the device still attached at her temple. She takes in a shuddering breath and stares at her reflection in the ripples. This. Her face. The only thing that makes sense in it all is this. Her name. Her face. She knows it now, murmurs it, and lets the familiar sound ground her against the memories.

She is - was – dead. If she believes Jacob - and, as much as she doesn't want to, she does – multiple times dead. Dead and _resurrected_.

Danielle shudders at the thought. It makes her skin crawl. She doesn't want to know anymore. She doesn't. The first peek inside the box and she's apparently been resurrected multiple times. If that's just the beginning, well then she doesn't want to know what the rest is. There's a feeling in the pit of her stomach, a certainty, that Jacob is right. There's worse lying ahead and she doesn't want to know.

And yet she does.

Rubbing her forehead, she sinks down onto the bed. "I'm afraid." The words slip free unbidden from her mouth and hang there, accusing, before her. Danielle breathes deep, in and out, in and out, and faces the truth of it. She wants to go back.

She wants to forget.

Exhausted, she pulls back the cover and slips beneath it. As much as she wants to forget, she won't, she needs to remember.

-

The explosions start near dawn. Danielle shakes awake with the first one, stumbling out into a hallway full of panicked Tok'ra. She grabs one at random, still half asleep herself, and stops them. "What's going on?"

She already knows the answer or, at least, she can figure it out. This is the second time they've moved since she came to be with them. Anubis, Ba'al, it doesn't matter. The question isn't if the Goa'uld are attacking, the question is which one?

"Three motherships," the Tok'ra answers, eyes flashing gold for a moment. Danielle nearly rears back, that irrational revulsion tightening her belly, but she steadies, waiting for the rest. "There's been no challenge and we've not seen Jaffa yet."

Yet.

The Jaffa are inevitable. No matter what method of attack the System Lords use, the Jaffa are always the end result. Always. Danielle swallows, sharp and hard, remembering the first attack just days after she'd come to the Tok'ra. Panic rises in her throat, threatening to choke off her air, and it's another moment before she realizes the Tok'ra is staring at her with a bewildered expression.

"Right," she says, releasing him with some embarrassment. It's difficult articulating these feelings that come over her. She doesn't try. How's she to explain it? The Tok'ra fear and hate the Jaffa, but the feeling that comes over her when she faces them, Danielle has no words for. "Okay, thanks." She stumbles away from him, back into her chamber, actions rote. She's done this before, has had the evacuation protocols drilled into her head so many times it's almost all she can remember, that she doesn't have to think about it.

She doesn't have much worth saving anyway, just a few pieces of clothing and items given to her by the others, but she makes the effort. She's lost so much that even a few secondhand trinkets mean the world. The dress given to her by Garshaw, it's hideous, but Danielle loves it anyway, the cuff from Malek, they aren't much of anything, but they're all she has right now.

She's shoved them into a bag and stumbled back out into the crowd before she realizes it. The Tok'ra, rushing two and fro, knock her about before she can fight her way to a clear spot. Distantly, she can hear people yelling instructions to each other, but over that she can hear klaxons blaring, others shouting, people she can't even see.

_"Unscheduled offworld activation! Unscheduled offworld activation!"_

"Receiving IDC -- "

"Open the iris -- "

"DANIELLE!"

Jacob's hands close around her arms, giving her a vicious shake, snapping her back to it. He grimaces. "You remembered something."

It's not a question and Danielle realizes that she's still wearing the device. "Damn," she says on a grimace, feeling the device's pinch in her skin. "I forgot about it."

"We'll worry about it later," says Jacob. "Right around the same time I say I told you so." He curls fingers around her arm and tugs her into the crowd. "We've got to get you the hell out of here."

There's a panic underpinning his voice and Danielle tenses. "Jacob?" She doesn't try to stop them, not crazy enough to risk an encounter with the Jaffa for a question, but she asks it anyway. "What is it?"

He doesn't answer, pulling her along anyway, and Danielle tightens her jaw.

"Answer me! What. Is. It?"

He looks at her, guilty and embarrassed, but says, "We've identified the motherships. They belong to Anubis."

"Right," Danielle says, slowly drawing out the word, "System Lord. An even bigger megalomaniac than the rest of the system lords which, when you think about it, verges on the impossible and -- "

"I think he's here for you."

That does stop her. Stock still in the tunnel, with Tok'ra running back and forth, Danielle stares at him in shock. "What?"

"Anubis," Jacob explains. "I think that he's here for you." He yanks on her arm, trying to pull her into motion again. "I can't explain it here, Danielle, we don't have the time. We need to get you to the gate and get you back to Earth. No questions. We'll explain it when we get there."

He pulls again and she stumbles forward, following him in a run, her mind whirling with the possibilities. "Why me?" she asks, dumbfounded. "What could I possibly have that _Anubis_ would want?"

Jacob doesn't answer, the silence stretching out between them, and Danielle has a feeling that's all the answer she needs.

Whatever it is that Anubis wants, she doesn't want to know.

Lucky thing, then, that she can't remember.

-

The sun is setting when the rings deposit them on the surface. It's jarring, her body telling her it should be morning, and an inane thought to be having. "Typical," Danielle mutters, "There's a system lord trying to kill me," or worse, "and I'm panicking about subterranean living messing with my head."

"Well," there's amusement in Jacob's voice now, "you don't grade on the same curve everybody else does."

"You keep saying things like that, Jacob, and I'm going to start believing you," Danielle warns, stumbling in the sand. She _hates_ sand. Why anyone would willingly spend time slogging through the stuff is beyond her. "My life can't be that insane."

"Oh, but it can be," Jacob says. "Trust me, Doc, I get around to telling you half of the – aw, shit! Watch it!" He tackles her and they go tumbling, head over heels, down into the dunes. The sound of gliders roaring overhead explains his reaction.

Caught in the fall, Danielle can't do anything but listen as the gliders fire. She hears someone scream and then the gliders are roaring back into the sky. She comes to a stop on her stomach, looking a sand-covered Jacob in the face

He's solemn, worried, and she doesn't want to look.

"Please don't tell me they're dead," she says.

"They aren't," says Jacob, "but they probably wish they were."

She looks back, watching Malek and Garshaw stumble toward the crater in the sand. It's already filling in, sand sliding in on the two unmoving bodies. They'll be buried before long, suffocation killing them before their wounds can, and Danielle struggles to her feet.

"We have to help them."

"No," says Jacob. His voice is thick, choked with emotion, but he continues, "Garshaw, Malek, and the others will handle it. We have to get you to the gate, Danielle. Number one priority. If Anubis gets his hands on you -- "

She snaps around, looking him. "What? What'll happen? Tell me, Jacob!"

"I can't," says Jacob. "Don't really know most of it myself." He jerks his head at Thoran, helping Garshaw and Malek dig the others free. "Thoran saw some of it, heard some more from Sam, and believe me, Danielle, because I believe them. The last thing we want is Anubis getting his hands on you."

He smiles. "Besides, Jack'll never forgive me if he gets you back and loses you again before he even knows it."

She looks at the gate. The chevrons are lighting. "Jacob."

He follows her gaze, precious seconds ticking by as he tries to understand her meaning, and then he gets it. "Aw _hell_, he's dialling in."

Danielle is already running. She reaches the DHD (the what?) before he does, her hand frantically flying over the controls. "I have no idea where I'm dialling."

"Alpha site," Jacob says. "We can't go there, Danielle. It was attacked."

As quickly as he says it, she breaks off the code, starting another. Instinct. "The Alpha site?"

"A back up. In case you couldn't risk dialling home," Jacob explains. "It was compromised a few months ago by the Goa'uld. No idea if they all know about it yet, but even if the SGC hasn't abandoned it, we can't go there. Can't take the risk Anubis might -- " he falls silent.

The gate engages.

Danielle looks at her hand, hovering over the last symbol, and sighs. "Fuck."

"That's about the size of it, yeah." Jacob grabs her hand, pulling her away from the Stargate. "C'mon, we have a couple of ships left, we might make it."

"Sure," says Danielle, "and pigs might fly." She looks around, not realizing she's looking for a gun until she sees it in her mind, sharp and clear, along with the plan quickly coming together in her thoughts. "We need a ship all right. Fastest one we've got."

Jacob looks at her, eyes narrowing. "You are _not_ thinking what I think you're thinking."

She smiles, bright and confident. Sam would approve. "If you're thinking I plan on leading Anubis and the Jaffa away from the others, then, yes, I am thinking what you think I'm thinking." She cringes inwardly at the mess that sentence is, but she can hear Sam laughing and plunges forward. "Jacob, if all Anubis wants is me, then there's a chance he'll leave the others alone. Maybe long enough for them to get away."

"Like hell he will," snaps Jacob. "Danielle, there's nowhere to go. All Anubis has to do -- " he looks at her and Danielle can almost see his resolve wasting away in inches. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"I'm listening," she assures, "I've just made up my mind in advance. We're doing this, Jacob."

He scowls, giving in. She lets him pretend there was ever going to be an actual choice in the matter. They both know otherwise. It's inevitable now they be captured, if the best they can do is let the others escape, then that's what they have to do.

"Some day," he says, growling in annoyance, "I am gonna beat the living hell out of Jack O'Neill."

"Not a chance," she says, more blithely than she feels. "I called dibs on that one years ago."

"Oh, of course, _that_ you remember!"

-

They actually make it into orbit. Danielle decided to count this as a small victory even as the mothership looms large over their tiny cargo vessel.

Beside her, Jacob groans. "Told you."

"Let's just hope we bought the others enough time." Danielle tells herself that they did. That Thoran or Malek or one of the others hid near the DHD and, the second the wormhole dropped out, managed to dial a secondary site. "They made it, Jacob."

He looks at her. "Yeah, Doc, I'm sure they did."

He's a terrible liar, but Danielle doesn't call him on it. "I'm sorry," she says instead. "You shouldn't be here for this."

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," says Jacob. "Besides, like I said, I don't get you home -- "

"Jack'll kill you," she finishes. "No, he won't." She manages a smile. "I won't let him."

He smiles, reaching for her hand as the Jaffa ring in. Danielle looks back, her hair swinging back over her shoulder, and Jacob swears. She's dodging the Jaffa grabbing for her when she realizes what he means.

She fumbles, trying to yank it out of her head, but one of the Jaffa does it instead. The pain is blinding, but worse is the grin on his face.

"My lord might have need of this," he says, clenching it tight in one fist. The other one swings up, catching Danielle in the jaw. She goes down, but not before she sees Jacob fall beside her.

"I'm sorry," he says, right before she passes out.

-

Jacob disappears when they're brought aboard the mothership. She sees the Jaffa hustle him down a corridor, but after he turns a corner, that's it. "Where is he going?" she demands, fighting the grip of the Jaffa that holds her. She catches herself scrutinizing him, looking for a familiar face, but can't remember the face that she's looking for.

She yanks hard, twisting her wrist and sending a shooting pain along her arm, "WHERE?"

One of them glowers. "You will be silent."

Danielle feels a smirk blossom. "No, I will not. I don't remember a whole hell of a lot, but I remember that much. Apparently, gentlemen, I am something of a chatterbox with a very large repertoire to draw from. You really don't want to see me in action but -- "

"On the contrary, dear Doctor Jackson, the one thing I desperately want is to see exactly that."

The voice of the man speaking isn't anymore familiar to her than his face, but Danielle knows who he is just the same. Behind the confident smirk and perfect features, she recognizes the monster peeking out.

Anubis's smile broadens. "What is it, Danielle?" he asks, taking a step forward. "You look as though you've seen a ghost." He's dressed simply, having forgone the ostentatious robes of his brethren, but his manner is deity personified.

So much so, that when he raises a hand, propelling her forward without so much as a touch, Danielle isn't surprised. It plays right into his role and, she thinks, the others would give their eyeteeth for it.

"Cheap parlor tricks," sighs Anubis. "And they'll fade with time." He holds out the hand he'd raised. "Flesh and bone once more. An annoying development, really, after so many millennia among the Ascended, but necessary."

"And you couldn't find a host with all the flashy powers?" Danielle folds her arms. "You poor thing, however will you cope?"

"I tried," Anubis says, pressing a hand against her back and guiding her deeper into the ship as though they were old friends. Danielle's skin crawls with each second his hand touches her body, but she fights against showing it. She won't give him the satisfaction of being afraid. "Part of my activities after the others tried to force me out. I spent so many years trying to design the perfect host. A hok'tar as my sister Nirrti once called them. Unfortunately, for all my preliminary success in the area, I did not anticipate the trauma that the process of the blending would have."

"Fried a few synapses, did we?" Danielle looks at the new host Anubis created for himself. She knows it's too much to wish that he would have created one without a consciousness. He wouldn't have cared enough to try. The young man is handsome, charming if his features are any judge, and she only just holds back the sigh. "Good."

"For you, perhaps, but not for me," Anubis's voice is deep, smooth, and almost pleasant. It's not quite the voice of the others, but more than human norm and Danielle tries to ignore the appealing way it forms words. Focusing, instead, on the crime of stealing it from someone else. "I had so many plans for these powers. Perhaps, in time, I will be able to undo the damage the blending has caused, but for the meantime, I must satisfy myself with a few simple tricks."

"However will you manage?" she says, unsympathetic.

"With your help, dear Danielle, with your help," Anubis smiles.

She wants to vomit.

Anubis stops them beside a window. Just over his shoulder, Danielle can see the vast expanse of space and wishes, with everything she's capable of, that she could be anywhere but this ship. "You see, Danielle, I know about your unfortunate condition." He reaches up, gently touching the device on her temple. "The Tok'ra."

He spits the word with disgust, but Danielle says nothing. Anything she might say could, possibly would, be taken out in vengeance on Jacob. Instead, stony-faced, she listens to Anubis go on, neither confirming, nor denying, his speculation.

"It's unfortunate, of course, that you would choose to do this to yourself," Anubis looks at her, a sideways glance, a wicked light entering his eyes, "I'm sure that never crossed your mind for a moment, did it? The idea that you might have willingly made yourself forget _everything_. You must hate me quite a lot to do something so vicious to your own mind. Excising your memories as one would a tumor?" he tsks, shaking his head, "To borrow from your own tongue, you have quite effectively poisoned the well. If it were to stand a chance of being successful, I might have considered it an act act worthy of a System Lord."

"Might?" echoes Danielle, speaking for the first time. Anubis is right. The idea that her amnesia might be self-induced is horrifying, but not nearly so much as the reason why. If Jacob was, is, right, then Anubis came looking for whatever secret she's trying to hide. "It's that dismal of an attempt?"

"Oh yes," Anubis smiles, stepping closer. She tries to step away, but he isn't having any of it, following and trapping her against a pillar. "You see," he says, sliding a hand over her hip, "I know you, Danielle, even crippled, your mind is imminently capable of dreaming up unorthodox solutions. Even ones you couldn't have devised for yourself."

His hand continues its upward path, siping along her arm, her shoulder coming to rest on her neck. Her head is still stinging from the memory device's abrupt removal. She closes her eyes, praying he won't produce it. "Anubis -- "

"Shush," says Anubis, laying one finger on her lip. "Don't ruin the moment, Danielle. Not without fully appreciating just how difficult a situation you have landed yourself in."

"I wouldn't make myself -- "

"Forget?" he asks, grinning. "Oh, but you would. If you thought it was worth it, you would, and believe me, you did. The fact that you willingly cast yourself out from among the Ascended, retook a human body, wiped your memory of your knowledge, and hid yourself among the Tok'ra speaks volumes to what you will do to hide yourself from me."

He turns from the table, facing the array of devices awaiting her. "Of course, dear Danielle, I have many avenues to reverse such damage. Not the least of which is the device my Jaffa recovered from you. Over the years, the Tok'ra have stolen so many little toys from us. Flotsam that is useless to us." He turns, holding up and tossing it aside. "The devices which I have created for myself in my absence are _much_ more efficient."

As he returns, she catches sight of a black disk between his fingertips before he presses it to her temple. His fingertip circles the device, the deceptively gentle touch sending frissons of fear down her spine. She tenses, ready to bolt, run, despite knowing there's no point. Worse, still, is the fact she's frozen by more than just fear. The admission is difficult. The idea that _Anubis_ is the first person to do more than hint, to give her any true picture of what really happened. The uge to ask questions is almost irresistible, but Danielle crushes it, refusing to give him even a hint of an opening. "It will be difficult, of course, perhaps even painful," his smile confirms it, "but I promise, Danielle, you _will_ remember."

"I can't," she says, desperate to put him off. "All I remember are a few useless bits and pieces. Nothing worth your interest."

"Don't be so sure," he says, his grin widening. "You think I'm blind, Danielle? That I don't recognize the device?" His chuckle is soft, intimate, like that of a lover, and she flinches away. He follows, breath brushing her cheek, "You know, so well as I, that it can do much to 'jog' your memory? You pushed those memories out when you fell, Danielle, but you didn't erase them. We endured the same process, you and I, and I can promise that they are in there."

Anubis steps away, producing the control device. "We are going to find them."

"No," she says, shaking her head and stumbling back. Her limbs stiffen, adrenaline and agony slowing her response as she fumbles for the device. It's sealed tight to her skin and she claws herself, trying to pull it free, but it's too late. The device whines, echoing in the throne room's cavernous space, and Danielle's lost. Her fingers refusing to obey her, spasmed tight with pain, she's overwhelmed by memory.

_Flat on her back, Danielle can feel the weight of the bandages pressing down on her. She can hear voices, speaking softly around her, but the words are muffled and she can't make them out. Nevertheless, they're familiar and she turns toward them._

A hand touches hers, squeezing through the bandages, and somehow she knows. Jack_. He hangs on tight, as if his touch alone can keep her from slipping away. Maybe it can. She doesn't know. _

She does know that she's dying. Her body is drowning by inches, swallowed up by herself, and the tug toward the dark is growing stronger by the second. It won't be long now at all.

Danielle forces herself to squeeze back. "I'm sorry."

She yanks free, gasping for air and stumbling forward, onto her knees. Anubis is there, one hand resting on her hair, an almost paternal touch. Danielle brings up her hand, sharply knocking his away even before she realizes it.

"Keep your hands off of me," she says, eyes fixed on the glossy black floor. The ship is new. Powerful. The floors aren't even scratched yet.

She wonders how many more he has. Pictures them assaulting planet after planet, wiping out Tok'ra and Human alike. A cold rage lights in her, surging out of the dark, and its familiar too. She hated the Goa'uld once, perhaps even more than the Tok'ra could imagine.

_"Danielle?"_

She doesn't answer, eyes focused on the receptacle and the Goa'uld symbiotes inside it. Carter hesitates behind her, shifting from one foot to the other, but Danielle still doesn't acknowledge her.

Eerily calm, she raises her gun and empties the clip; the symbiotes spill into the dirt. Where they belong.

She turns around, ignoring Sam's horrified look. "I'm coming."

Anubis is watching her, sharp-eyed and aware, with a smile of victory. "You're remembering."

She pushes to her feet, backing away from him. "Not what you want." She doesn't even know what that is. Lifting her chin, she adds, bitter and amused, "Nothing that makes any sense. Just random moments with no context." She pauses, then says, "I can play the piano though. If that's any help."

He scowls, twisting the control in his hands. The device in her head flares, memories surging and tumbling, and Danielle cries out.

_Jack is going to_ kill_ him_.

She pitches forward, falling into the memory and unconsciousness all at once.

-


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and say our host don't like you much."

With a soft groan, Danielle fights her way through the dizzying pain, toward consciousness and the sympathetic voice. It's not Jacob, the timbre and diction all wrong, but it's familiar all the same. She's heard it before, although she obviously can't say when or where.

_Jack's hand tangles in her vest, yanking her off-balance into a fall. She hits the dirt with a thump, knocking the wind out of her with the impact, seconds before Jaffa fire blasts overhead. _

"Will you watch it?" he snaps, exasperated. "Goddamn it, Danielle, how many funerals does a woman need?"

She grins, tucking herself against his side, hands reloading her gun on instinct. The metal is hot to the touch, but she doesn't slow down. Not with Ba'al's Jaffa pouring down the incline. She loads, peers over the rock and ducking down before the Jaffa see her. "I'm aiming for double digits."

"Going for a record?" Jack asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. Grabbing his radio, he looks skyward, "Prometheus, where the fuck is my back up?"

Danielle looks, thinks she sees black specks on the horizon, specks that grow larger with each passing second, dread bundling in her stomach. "Jack -- "

The radio crackles, that familiar voice drawling, "Coming through the Gate now, Colonel, don't suppose you'd mind ducking? Be a damn shame to blow your head off."

Danielle opens her eyes on the explosion, finding a man bending over her. He smiles, relieved, but she doesn't share the feeling. His face doesn't bring the same jolt of familiarity and it's puzzling.

Also annoying, but she's starting to suspect she gets that a lot.

"Maybe I owe him money," she says, pushing herself up.

He moves to help her, keeping his hands on her arms as he eases her to a sitting position against the wall. A grin tugs at his lips. "Maybe. If you do, must be a hell of a lot, you were starting to scare me. Haven't moved so much as an inch since Anubis's goons dumped you in here."

She rubs her temples, fingers brushing over the memory device. "Our visit was a little...rough."

"What the hell is _that_?" he asks. A moment later, his fingertip touches the device. "He do that to you?"

"No," Danielle says, "I did that to me." She decides, for now, not to mention Jacob. She hasn't seen him since they were taken by Anubis's Jaffa and she's just paranoid enough not to be sure about this guy. Anubis locking her up with a plant wouldn't be that insane a concept. "It's a device to aid in memory recall." She looks at him, her smile sheepish. "I've got a little problem with amnesia."

He nods. "Figured."

She looks at him, _really_ looks at him, taking in the uniform and the scruff decorating his jawline. She should know him, but the way he's looking at her, she's a stranger. Sighing, she leans back against the cool wall. "How long have you been here?"

He frowns. "Well, now, that's the bitch of it. I have no idea." He looks lost, trying to put together the days. "Damn hard to tell how much time's passed." He holds up his wrist, waving a watch at her. "Smashed it when I punched out."

"What happened?"

At first, he starts to answer. She can see him trying to put together an answer, realize he's about to reveal classified information and stop.

"It's all right," she says, laying a hand on his arm. "For all you know, I could be one of Anubis's slaves." It wouldn't be the first time the Goa'uld tried it. "I should be thinking the same thing about you. There is a reason he put us in here together." She tries for a smile, but it's strained, "Even if he took the others prisoner, there's no way that he could he could have run out of room."

She swallows, thinking about the others. It's a mistake to do it, her mind easily supplying all the ways that Anubis could torture them. All because of her. She didn't betray the Tok'ra into his hands, but she might as well have.

"Hey," a hand touches hers, her cell mate obviously, and she looks up at him. "It's not your fault."

Danielle inhales shakily. "I wish I could agree with you."

"It's not." He frowns. "Anubis's been running around the galaxy kicking the hell out of people for months. Got a powerful grudge to be working off apparently. It's not your fault he finally zeroed in on the Tok'ra."

She raises an eyebrow. "And you knew I was with them, how?"

He grins. "Well, the clothing was my first guess. Tok'ra don't exactly shop at Walmart. Besides, it might be a big ship, but there's only so many corridors. They've been marching them through here for a while now. Damndest thing too. Anubis isn't the type for taking prisoners."

That most of them survived, or may have survived, is almost a reassurance. If they're alive, there's a chance to get off the ship and pick up some valuable intelligence doing it. Getting operatives into Anubis's ranks has been hell, anything the Tok'ra can uncover will help.

Except, Danielle knows better. This is Anubis. Death would be a mercy. "He'll use them against me," she murmurs. "He knows I blame myself for their capture. He'll use their lives as blackmail. We've gotten too many of them killed already." A finite population and every time Earth and the Tok'ra mix, the Tok'ra die. She remembers, with startling clarity, just how much that bothered her.

"It's not fair," she sighs. "The Goa'uld keep spreading and the Tok'ra -- " the Tok'ra keep dying with no Queen to regenerate their ranks. She presses her lips together, tries not to think about the names springing to mind. Jolinar. Martouf. Lantesh. Egeria.

_Isis_.

She shakes her head, turning her focus inward, unsure why that name resonates. "It is my fault. They're going to die because he wants an answer I can't give him." Can't, but also won't. The worst of it is she can't even tell them what they're about to die for. "He won't even ask the question. Just -- " she waves a hand at the device. "He thinks he can pull it out of my head."

And maybe he can. She laughs. "The worst part? I know it's important. I can _feel_ it, but hell if I know why. I know I came back for it. I know it's why I'm _here_, but the memory? Gone."

And if Anubis is right, if she made herself forget, then she's ten kinds of an idiot. Her newfound friend doesn't argue this time, but he wants to. She looks at him, sitting there staring at her with a helpless expression, and she tries to smile. "It's all right, really. I've gotten used to this."

He shakes his head. "No, you haven't. Been doing a passable job of faking it, maybe, but no." He frowns. "Just, uh, you're not Tok'ra?"

She blinks, taken off guard, before realizing it was an easy assumption. Tok'ra outpost, Tok'ra clothing, and the fact there are few unblended among their ranks, and it practically sells itself. "No. I'm, well," she shrugs, "a guest."

"I thought the Tok'ra didn't do guests. Specially not at their nice top secret-like bases."

"I'm not your average guest, apparently," says Danielle. "I don't really remember much, but the world I come from is one of their few allies." She purses her lips. "Though, I get the impression that the alliance isn't an easy one."

"What I know of the Tok'ra, I can see why," he grins.

"I think we're as much the problem as the Tok'ra are." Danielle thinks of the bodies. "We keep getting their people killed."

"You're not gonna get anybody killed," he argues. "The Tok'ra started this fight long before either one of us was born. They knew what they were getting into and Anubis would've come after them sooner or later. Who's to say he just didn't get lucky finding you?"

She smiles. "I know."

He huffs a breath. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a real pain in the ass to argue with?"

Danielle smiles wider. "I have absolutely no idea."

"Aw fuck," he sighs. "All right, all right, you win. Happy?"

"No," says Danielle, "but it's a start." She sits back, rubbing her forehead. "You never did tell me your name."

"Nope, didn't, did I?" he squints. "Well, if we're still being paranoid about who's spying on who, I'm not sure I should."

"Does Anubis know?" Danielle asks, "because, if he does, then there's nothing of value in it. As long as we stay away from those topics, we should be fine."

"Except, how do we know it's not important?" he asks. "From what I here, Anubis likes things all muddy and obscure."

She nods. "Well, yes, there is a chance of that, but really? We have to give in at some point, or the conversation is going to become really circular and I'm not going to be able to figure out a damn thing."

He chuckles. "Point." Sitting up, he holds out a hand. "Names Cam Mitchell. Well, Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell, and I hail from the planet Earth. You?"

She takes his hand, feeling the callouses press against her skin. "Well, that's complicated -- "

His face falls. "Right, the amnesia. Sorry, didn't mean to, uh, yeah."

Danielle squeezes his hand. "It's all right. I'm still getting used to it myself." She lets a wry grin curl her lip. "I've never been an amnesiac before. At least, not that I can remember."

Mitchell laughs, loud and free. She envies him the escape. Even without her memories, Danielle is certain that it's been a long time since she could laugh like that. "Well, we're sure your sense of humor's intact." He lets go of her hand. "So, you're a 'guest' of the Tok'ra. Exactly how'd you come to land that kind of status? I'm guessing they think you're a pretty important person."

"Or something," says Danielle. She looks at her clothes, remembering the chill of the snow against her skin, sharp and bitter. "Honestly, that's as much a mystery as everything else." She shrugs. "To hear the Tok'ra tell it, I just turned up, unconscious, on their doorstep one day. Completely naked."

His eyebrows raise. "_Completely_." She gives him credit that his leer is playful and nothing more. "Well, there's got to be an impressive story behind that one."

"Probably," she agrees. "I just can't remember a bit of it. The first thing I clearly remember," that isn't a jumble of useless images, "is waking up among the Tok'ra." Anubis's words come back to her, slick and smooth as they fill her head. "Before that is mostly a blank or secondhand information that doesn't make much sense."

She half-laughs. "I am beginning to get the impression that's par for the course for me."

"Join the club," says Mitchell. "I think I got a lifetime membership."

-

It's ironic. In the relative safety of the Tok'ra tunnels, she couldn't catch more than a few hours of fitful rest. Trapped aboard a Goa'uld ship, a System Lord breathing down her neck, and she drifts into a deep sleep.

_ She touches Jack's shoulder, bringing him into her world with a seamless transition. Here, between awake and asleep, the world is fuzzy and out of focus, light coming from every direction. She steps around, coming face to face with him, and smiles. "Hi."_

He looks at her, blank for a moment, "Hello?" She can almost watch the pieces fit together. Jack takes in their surroundings, the watchful Oma standing on the ramp, and then looks at her. "Not in Kansas anymore, huh?"

"Not for a while," she says. She takes a breath, an imagined one at any rate, and composes herself. "Tell them to stop, Jack."

He frowns. "Stop?"

"Jacob is trying to heal me," Danielle says, knowing he understands perfectly, "I can feel it. He's succeeding, but not enough." She looks at him, feeling the pain that Jacob's efforts are causing. Calling it pain is an understatement. It feels as though her internal organs are ripping themselves apart and she see, for a brief second, the life that awaits her if he finishes. "I'll survive, but that's all. It'll be a half life if anything. Disfigured, in constant pain, I'd be useless here."

Jack's eyes spark with anger. "Just let you die? Are you – " he breaks off, shaking his head. "Forget it, Danielle, there is no way in hell that I'm going to let you die."

She smiles, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I have no intention of committing suicide, Jack, and I'm not asking for a mercy killing."

He looks at Oma. "Let me guess, there's another option?"

Danielle nods. "If there's one thing I've learned here is that there's another option."

Danielle opens her eyes to the sound of Jaffa. The rhythmic marching is eerily soothing. Familiar. "I get the feeling I've done this before," she murmurs.

"Yeah?" asks Mitchell. "This cell bringing back fond memories?" He's crouched near the door, watching the Jaffa march past. "Think you've got a super secret past as an escaped felon?"

With a wince, Danielle tugs the device free, leaving a reddened bump in its place. She rubs it and breathes out slowly. "I don't know." She looks at the small device. Anubis was right. The device is much more advanced than the one Jacob was using. Sam would give her eyeteeth to examine this. _Sam_. "The Tok'ra were helping me to find out when we were captured."

"Are you sure it's safe to tug it out like that?" Mitchell gestures at her head. "You didn't just screw something up in there?"

She grins. "I'm not sure there's anything left to screw up that isn't already. Everything is so jumbled up – " Sighing, she tosses it across the room, listening to the soft clatter as it falls into the shadows. "I just need time. If I can sort some of this out, then maybe I can -- " she looks at the door. "Figure a way out of here."

"Well, if you _are_ an escaped felon, then you've probably rocking some serious experience there, Jane."

"Jane?"

"Yeah, as in Doe?" he explains. "You never got around to mentioning your name."

"No, I didn't," she agrees. "I'm still working on that, I think." Which is technically not a lie. She knows her name – her first anyway, Jacob didn't get around to the second half – but the woman behind the name is still a mystery.

A mystery that just keeps getting more complicated. She gets up, walking the cell in a slow circuit. "None of it makes any sense."

"None of what?" Mitchell asks, almost too casual.

She looks at him. "Playing therapist?"

"Well, it's me or the snake upstairs," Mitchell grins. "Your choice."

That succeeds in pulling a genuine laugh from her, small though it is. "Well, when you put it _that_ way, I don't have much of a choice at all, what with the complete refusal to actually tell him anything." She sits down across from him. "I don't know that I can tell you much, it doesn't make any sense to me and I don't think I can articulate it."

The comment strikes her as wickedly ironic, though Danielle can think of no reason why. Frustration bites at her and she looks away. "There are so many pieces. Things that are _right there_ and I can't put them together." Some of them she can't even really see. Like an iceberg with barely its tip showing.

She looks in the direction of the device. "That's what it was for. Helping me put the pieces into some kind of order." Maybe something that could explain what Anubis was talking about. Her 'falling', the Ascended, and retaking a human body.

Which made even less sense but, "Would explain the nudity."

Mitchell looks at her, blank. "Huh?"

She meets his gaze. "I told you that it wouldn't make sense."

"Well, maybe you can start with what you do remember that does make sense."

Nodding, Danielle rocks back on her heels. "I have been able to verify some events through the Tok'ra." She looks at her clothing, picturing the dull green of BDUs (of _what_?) in its place. Something almost akin to the green flight suit Mitchell is wearing. "I killed Ra."

Mitchell doesn't answer that. In fact, he falls completely silent and when she looks at him, he's staring at her with a shocked expression. It's not the first time someone has given her a look like that lately. She's stumbled into something important without realizing. This time, however, she thinks that she stands a chance of wheedling it out of him. He tries to speak, stumbling over what to say before settling on a simple, "Are you serious?"

"Yes," Danielle says, "Of course, why wouldn't I be? Trust me, I had the same questions, Ra was the most powerful system lord of his day, the circumstances of his death were top priority for the Tok'ra. They confirmed that I, and others from my world, was responsible for his death."

"How'd he die?" asks Mitchell, voice choked. His expression is one of disbelief and, even astonishment. Whatever it is that put that look on his face, Danielle can sense it's going to be impressive. "If you killed him, it had to be impressive, right? So how'd you kill the biggest badass that ever badassed?"

"I don't know, exactly," Danielle frowns, reaching for the answer. With as many memories as the therapy shook loose, it's still difficult. Half-formed images and barely there snippets of conversation. She breathes out, trying to remember that moment. Without the device pushing her, she's surprised by the sudden feeling of warmth on her face, the brightness of the sun and an even brighter flash beyond. "I think I know, but -- " she shrugs. "It's like everything else right now, I think I know, I'm completely _certain_, but when I try to remember why? I come up almost empty. There are so many bits and pieces of it missing. I remember a confrontation with Ra, then a flash of light in the sky -- "

"Nuke," Mitchell says.

There's something in the way that he says it, an easy confidence, that tells her this is the cue she's been waiting for. He's tipped his hand and she looks up, watching him closely. "I think this is where I ask if you have something to tell me." With a small smile, she does, "Mitchell, do you have something to tell me?"

"I don't know, maybe, it's possible," he says, and she believes him. His is a face of genuine confusion. "Barely possible. With everything that's happened in the past ten years, we've heard of weirder, and I remember reading the mission reports about the First Mission. It's pretty much the first thing you do when you transfer in. Our own little initiation, read all about the first team and at. Everybody does when they come in." His smile is shaky as he adds, "What you don't read, you hear in the office gossip. I just can't believe it."

"Believe what?" asks Danielle, heart in throat.

The endless parade of Jaffa stops at the door. Danielle and Mitchell look up at the same time, both frowning.

"Shit," mutters Mitchell.

Danielle mutters an oath as well, something from a language she can't remember the name of. She balls her fists, fighting the urge to rail at the intruding Jaffa as the cell door cycles open. She doesn't even care about the implications, that Anubis is waiting for another kick at the can, all she cares about is what Mitchell was about to tell her.

"You know," she says, "you guys have spectacularly bad timing."

One of the Jaffa glowers down at her, the shining gold symbol on his forehead marking him as Anubis's first prime. "My lord would speak with you."

"Well, now is not really a good time for me," says Danielle, rising and backing away. "Don't suppose we could reschedule? I have a pressing conversation that I just can't leave."

He glowers harder. Apparently humor is lost on the Jaffa. _Ah, but not our T, Doc, he's just a barrel of laughs_. "You will come with us." He closes the distance between them in one quick lunge, wrapping his hand tight around her arm.

Mitchell's on his feet in a second, but Danielle shakes her head. "It's all right." She smiles, wry. "No need to get yourself killed over this. I've been in worse situations before." Even with the complete blank of her memory, she's absolutely certain about that too.

He stands anyway. "Anubis is going to _torture_ you, you said it yourself."

"Yes, he is," she agrees blandly, "and it will hurt, probably kill me at least once," there's no doubt Anubis has a sarcophagus. Even if he doesn't need it anymore, his victims certainly do. "It's not really anything new."

"If you're who I think you are," Mitchell says, grinning, "then, no, it isn't."

Danielle looks at him. The confirmation of her suspicion doesn't bring the satisfaction that she had expected. Instead, confusion and apprehension, each deep and unsettling, settles into her and she fights the grip of the Jaffa tugging her out of the cell. "What are you talking about?"

"What I know," Mitchell says, trying to follow. The Jaffa lash out and he's thrown to the floor. They take position between them so all Danielle can see is his legs as he kicks out at one. "About you. Well, I guess it's about you anyway, only one way to be sure and O'Neill's kinda occupied trying to rescue my ass about now."

"Jack?" echoes Danielle. "You know Jack?"

He laughs. "Hell, yeah, man's the biggest pain my ass has ever had."

She stumbles, grabbing for the door. One of the Jaffa breaks her grip, his blow making her hand sting. The pain is focusing, sharp, and she clings to it. "That sounds like him." Delight swirls in through her, endorphins flooding through her, and she can't stop the laugh.

"God almighty," Mitchell yells, his voice echoing down the corridor. "You're her, aren't you? Sonofabitch, Jackson, you're still alive!"

"YES!" she calls back, ignoring the angry looks from the Jaffa. "I am!" She catches sight of the Tok'ra as they pass. She doesn't see Jacob in their number, worry knotting beneath the excitement. He has to be all right, she need wants to tell him. She knows her name. She _knows_ it. "I guess I owe Anubis one," she says, grinning. "Without him, I never would have met Mitchell."

The Jaffa have no comment to that, but she doesn't care. She wasn't looking for one.

"Danielle Jackson," she says, a lighter bounce in her step. "My name is Danielle Jackson." Her enthusiasm dims when she thinks of Anubis and realizes. Each and every step to remembering the truth is, possibly, another step closer to the information he's seeking. Her smile transmutes into determination. "I won't help him. It doesn't matter what I remember, I will not help him."

"Yes," says one of the Jaffa, "you will."

She lifts her head, arch. "Like hell."

-

"You removed the device," Anubis says, accent sharp on the words. "Pity. It would have made matters less unpleasant." He shrugs. "No matter, it isn't as if I have no others." He gestures to the Jaffa. "On the table."

They drag her forward, lifting her bodily up onto the table. Danielle stares up at the black ceiling, trying to focus on the expanse and off her surroundings. If he's to be believed, she forgot this for a reason. If Mitchell is to be believed, there's a chance the others are coming after him. They can rescue her too.

She just needs to hang on. Just a little while longer.

"I must give you credit, Danielle," Anubis says, looking down at her. He leans over her, pleasantly handsome features taking on a sinister light with his words, "You did quite a thorough job eradicating the information. You truly are the last place in the galaxy in which it might be found. I'm sure you see where that was your undoing."

"Or my victory," she says. "Whatever it is you want me to tell you, you know that I'll die before I give it up."

He chuckles, one of the Jaffa bringing him a tray of instruments. "You know, if you were anyone else, such bravado would be believable. You are not, however, anyone else. Given your track record with death, it's not much of a threat."

"So everyone seems to believe." Danielle hides the wince as Anubis presses something to her temple. It lacks the biting pinch of the memory device and, somehow, that scares her even more. "Frankly, I don't understand it."

"From your perspective, of course not," he agrees. "As I was saying, it is somewhat unfortunate that you removed the device, but not a particularly difficult obstacle to overcome. In fact, this is my opportunity to test my own version. All those millennia cast off from the others – I've had more than ample time to perfect my technology."

Her mind races with the possibilities, jarring images loose.

_A man, Jack, the energy from the sarcophagus clinging to his body like ash and grime. She can barely see him through it. Desperation surges through her and she wishes she were still flesh and bone, able to grab and shake and make him _ see_ what he's playing with. _

He waves her off, turning away, and she can't stop herself from reaching anyway. "We're not talking about your life, Jack, we're talking about your soul."

The image breaks, shatters, and she's back. Anubis leaning over her, an eerily cheerful smile on his face. She wonders if the dissonance ever bothered her before. If she could look at a Goa'uld and not wonder about the host trapped down deep.

She's spent too much time with the Tok'ra, getting to know both. She feels a fresh twist of horror at the thought of man whose body Anubis has stolen. Blond, handsome, his accent familiar, but not, Danielle wonders what planet he left behind, what family. If he _has_ a family. If he even has a name. She wishes she could remember this Nirrti he mentioned. The process for creating a hok'tar. If this man was born in a lab, raised there, never awoken, then she thinks it might be a mercy.

Better to be a blank slate than live an eternity prisoner in your own mind. Her stomach revolts at the thought and it's all Danielle can do not to vomit.

"I can't read you," Anubis says, somewhat annoyed. "It's one of the unfortunate consequences of my choice. Telepathy was the first thing that went." He smiles again. His host has a beautiful smile. Again, she finds herself wondering if there is still a mind behind it.

She prays there isn't.

_"Please, just -- _ something_ of the host must survive?"_

The agony in her own voice, the memory laced through with even more, has Danielle choking back a sob. She looks at Anubis, hoping he hasn't seen, and says, "I'd say I felt sorry for you, but I'd be lying."

Anubis laughs. "You begin to sound more like yourself, Danielle. It's good to hear it again. You're remembering more." He touches the device on her temple, she flinches away. "Good."

"You have to realize how pathetic you seem, don't you?" she asks, instead. It's an old tactic, anger covering fear, but the classics are classics for a reason and she goes with it. "Thousands of years spent building an army, advancing your own technology, and you're still desperate to find the Ancients' sloppy seconds?" She laughs. It's a hollow lie, but it sends anger flashing through his eyes.

He grabs her chin, hard, forcing her to look at him. "You really don't understand what it is I want, do you?" his smile changes, hardens, thins to a razor's edge. She feels as though it might slice her to ribbons if she gets too close. "Even now, with all you've remembered, you still don't know."

Danielle stays silent. All she's remembered. A few scraps of memories that hint at a story still untold and an urgency that screams something is coming, but never quite gets around to telling her what it is. Yes, so _much_ accomplishment there.

"You will remember, of course," Anubis says, letting her go. "You would have saved yourself so much discomfort if you had just left it alone." He straightens, reaching for a small black ball. It's the size of a pebble, barely that, but it's big enough.

She tugs at her bonds, an panicked reflex that Anubis answers with a superior grin. "I would reassure you, but of course, I don't care. I doubt that this will unlock any great treasure trove of memory. It was not designed for such a function."

He holds it up, dark surface gleaming in the light. "It is a probe, of course. You've always been a formidable woman, Danielle. There is a significant chance that you do indeed remember what I want to know and are hiding it from me. I could bring your Tok'ra compatriots here and torture them, perhaps kill them, to force it out of you, but we both know that would fail. They would refuse to let you make such a sacrifice to save them."

He's right. She tries to picture Malek or Jacob letting her betray herself to save them. She can't. They'd never allow it. No matter what Anubis did.

"Well, they are really good at holding grudges," Danielle agrees. "I'm sure that you've noticed that."

Shaking his head, Anubis bends over her. "Oh, I've noticed much," he says. "It is better to do it this way." He holds the probe close. "I believe it's quite agonizing, but at least, with this, we will be sure."

Danielle closes her eyes. She won't beg for his mercy, won't promise she doesn't know anything, she won't give him the satisfaction. She won't --

She stops. Deep within herself something her clicks into place. It's not so simple as a switch being flipped. It's something more than that. A resurgence. A piece of herself, the random bits and bobs left adrift in her mind, settles into its proper place.

Opening her eyes, she face Anubis with a blank expression. There's no defiance, there's no need for any. There's just a calm resignation. She's had worse than this a thousand times before, she'll probably have worse again, there's no satisfaction to give him.

"Go ahead," she says. "I have a conversation to get back to."

-

Anubis is wrong. It doesn't hurt. It's _agony_. The device rips her mind apart, tearing through her memories like a shredder. Danielle screams herself hoarse, loses her voice, then learns to scream again.

She still gives him nothing.

Apparently, pain is something she's intimately acquainted with.

-

Waking up in the cell, Mitchell sitting at her side, Danielle looks at him. "Do they know you're here?" Her voice is rough, worn, barely a whisper, as she forces the words out, knowing the Jaffa could come back at any moment. Anubis will wait, but only for so long. If they're going to do this, they have to do it fast.

"Does Earth?" Mitchell asks.

She nods.

"Beats the hell out of me," he sighs. "We've been using these planes on our offworld missions, flying cover for the active duty teams, they're brand spankin' new and the Goa'uld'd give their eyeteeth – if they've even got those – to figure out how they work. I went down making sure they didn't get mine. If the guys know what happened, then, yeah, there's a pretty good chance."

"Then they'll be coming for you."

"Maybe, more like the ship. Word is Anubis is building some kind of superweapon on it. Thing's had the Tok'ra and Earth scrambling for weeks."

"Ah," Danielle sits up. "So that's what it was." Endless secret council missions, the attacks on the bases, all becoming more and more frequent. "They've been gearing up for something."

"This, probably," says Mitchell. "Best time the alliance's ever been. You weren't kidding about the politics."

She grins, wry. "If I could remember, I could probably tell stories, I'm guessing."

"Something like that, yeah," he agrees. "SG1 gets all the good missions." He hesitates. "You don't happen to remember anything about it, do you?"

"About what?" she asks, scratching the back of her neck. She feels itchy, achy, skin crawling. Every nerve ending feeding too much information back to her and Danielle squirms. She can't quite pin down the restless feeling, where it's coming from, but she has an idea. That persistent conviction, certainty that she needs to do _something_ before its too late. Too late for what is the question. "SG1?"

"Yeah," he says, nodding. "Do you?"

"Bits and pieces. More bits than pieces." Anubis's comments come back to her and she frowns. "I think I did it to myself."

"Huh what now?" Mitchell asks, looking at her sideways. "Woman, what in hell are you talking about?"

"Something that Anubis said." Danielle pulls her knees to her chest, resting her chin on one. "I think I voluntarily wiped my own memory."

He sits up, turning to face her. She gets the sense he's trying to get her to focus on him and she obliges, happy to attack the problem right out. "And you would do that because -- ?"

"I wanted to keep something from him." Danielle wiggles her chin, trying to piece it together. "I think that's why I did all of this. I found out something he wants to know and I ran. Tried to hide with the Tok'ra."

"Would explain why you didn't go home," Mitchell says. His expression is almost bemused. "can't think there'd be much otherwise that'd stop you from going back."

"Maybe I should have," she sighs. "The Tok'ra wouldn't be in the fix they are now if I hadn't." And that's the thing. The mystery in all this. Why them? She says as much, looking at Michell. "We're their allies, but you said it yourself, we're not _close_. Why would I risk it? Why would I put them in this kind of danger?"

"I honestly don't know," he shrugs. "You must've thought you had a good reason for it. Maybe the Tok'ra had something that you needed."

Danielle laughs, shaking her head. "And whatever that is, I can't remember it. How did I ever think this was a good plan? Make myself forget everything? Hiding is one thing, but I've been with the Tok'ra for _weeks_. Whatever I needed from them, I could have had it and been gone by now."

"Or maybe not," Mitchell suggests. "Maybe you needed to wait."

"Why?"

He spreads his hands. "Beats the hell out of me, but from what I remember, I don't think you'd do this without planning ahead."

"Well, whatever the plan, it's gone off the rails now," Danielle says. "We need to get out of here. I don't think I can hold out against Anubis much longer. Whatever it is I know, he's going to find a way to force it out of my memory. I can't stay here." She looks up. "I need to get to the others. Malek's okay. I saw him, but Jacob -- "

She swallows. "He's a friend."

"Yeah," Mitchell nods. "So I hear." He rests a hand on her shoulder, squeezing supportively. "We're gonna find him. I doubt Anubis's done anything to him yet. If he knows General Carter's a friend of yours, he's not gonna waste a perfectly good execution without getting the bang for his buck."

"And you know," Danielle says, smiling, "that's actually reassuring and how perverse is that?"

"Well,you do this job long enough, your definition of perverse goes through a few renovations." He grins. "Okay, so if we're going to try busting out of this cell, it's going to be one hell of a trick. Anubis built this place pretty good. Before you got here, I spent a lot of time going over the place. If there's a way out of here, I haven't found it yet."

Danielle smiles. "Not yet anyway." She rises up, going to the door and tries to see the others. "If we could just get to the others. The Tok'ra have a few escape artists in their midst. They've gotten pretty good at breaking out of Goa'uld cells over the years. Most of these ships have a similar design, if we can get out of here, we should be able to make it to the glider bay."

"What about our gracious host?" Mitchell asks, getting up to join her. "Won't he be able to pull some kind of psycho bullshit and track us down?"

She looks at him, a grin tugging at her lips. "Psycho bullshit? You mean psychi-- " she shakes her head. "Somehow, I feel as though Jack is to blame for that."

Mitchell grins at her. "Why, Dr. Jackson, I have no idea what you mean by that."

She snorts. "Right." She's lot track of how many times Jack's done that. She can't even remember them now, but she knows they happened. Whatsits and whosits – Jack O'Neill has said them all.

"So, about your escape plan?"

"It's an idea, not a plan."

"Well, your idea then. Won't Anubis be able to figure it out?" Mitchell waves a hand. "Like I said, can't he pull some funky psychic shit?"

"No," Danielle says. "For some reason, Anubis has taken a human host. I don't know if he reconstituted his body within the host, but according to him he's virtually powerless. I know he had no idea what I was thinking when he had me there. Not even with the brain scan he conducted." She thinks back, shuddering at the thought. "I think he was telling the truth about it."

"Why would he do something like that?" Mitchell leans against the wall, watching her. "I mean, doesn't it seriously cut into his mojo?"

"Yes," Danielle nods, "it does and, believe me, I'd like to know why." She exhales. "Anubis didn't need to do it. From what the Tok'ra told me, even without a completely physical form, he still did serious damage. " She shivers. "I have a feeling that, whatever it is, it has something to do with me."

"Well, if that's the case, we're not waiting around to find out. We don't know when the SGC"s gonna hit the ship and waiting is not an option." He glances at the corridor. "You think, if we can spring them, your Tok'ra buddies know of a nice safe planet we can hit up? We find one, we can call home, easy as pie and make O'Neill's day." With a wink, Mitchell adds, "Anubis's ship has the best souvenirs."

She rolls her eyes. "Definitely Jack."

"I try," Mitchell says.

With a shake of her head, Danielle turns and looks out. "Jacob has to be here somewhere. If we can get to him -- "

"Well, there's no busting out of this cell," Mitchell says. "Not until our Jaffa friends open the door."

Danielle raises an eyebrow. _That_ is your plan? Jump the Jaffa when they come to get me?"

He nods. "Pretty much, yes. Why? You don't like it? It's too simple, isn't it?"

She blinks. "I was thinking more along the lines of too suicidal. If you hadn't noticed, they tend to be somewhat armed to the teeth and slightly grouchy."

"Well, we'll sing a couple happy songs, fix things up," Mitchell waves a hand. "Trust me, Doc, it'll work."

She folds her arms. "If you get me killed again, I'm going to be very upset with you."

He snickers. "I'll do my best to avoid it."

-

"You know, Mitchell," Jacob says, waking them out of a sound sleep, "some day, you've gotta tell me your secret. How's it you keep scoring the good cellmates? I get Malek and you get the Doc. So not fair by my lights."

Danielle rubs her eyes. "Jacob?"

He grins, holding out a hand. "Hey, Doc, how you feel about blowing this popstand? I mean, the company in here's pretty crappy, don't you think?"

Mitchell scoffs. "Oh, please, compared to the guys with the staff weapons, I'm a _dream_."

"All depends," Jacob shoots back, grin widening, "on who happens to be holding the staff weapon." He looks at Danielle. "We couldn't get anybody on board the ship, but turns out the Free Jaffa are a little sneakier." He jerks a thumb back at the guard standing at the end of the hall. "He can guarantee us a few minutes to get into the ventilation system, but after that, we're on our own."

"Well, we were already on our own," Mitchell says with some defensiveness. "Had a plan and everything."

Jacob looks at Danielle, grinning. "Gonna jump 'em when they came in, right?"

She smiles. "I will neither confirm nor deny anything of the sort."

"Great plan, Mitchell," Jacob says. "Our luck, you'd've jumped _our_ guys."

"Well, it _would_ have worked," Mitchell grumbles.

"Then let's get moving," Danielle says, shouldering past them. "I think I'm going to skip my next session with Anubis."

Malek is waiting at the ventilation shaft, a small smile on his face. His gaze sweeps over her, eyes assessing. "You seem undamaged."

She tries for a smile, moving to stand at his side as Jacob climbs inside the shaft. "I am, mostly." Which is as close to the truth as she wants to try getting. The jumble of memories and emotions is such a mess that explaining it is something she doesn't really want to begin to tempt. "I just don't -- " she sighs. "Anubis has complicated matters considerably."

That makes Malek smile. "A common problem among the Goa'uld." He holds out a hand to help her into the shaft. "We will discuss this later, Metit. I promise."

She smiles. "I remember my name."

"Yes," he nods, "so I have heard." His eyes glint with mischief. "However, I think this one suits you more."

Shaking her head, Danielle slides into the ventilation shaft.

-

"We can't stick to these shafts much longer," Mitchell says from behind her. "They're probably already scanning the ship, looking for us and we're going to light up here like Christmas trees. Stand a chance of blending in down there."

"Maybe," Jacob says, up ahead, "but I'm betting not. Anubis is going to pull the Jaffa into a coordinated search pattern. Anyone not a part of it? Is gonna be us."

"We need to hide in plain sight," Danielle says.

"I don't think I like the sound of your voice, Doc," Mitchell comments. "I'm pretty sure whatever you're thinking is gonna be crazier than anything I could dream up."

Malek chuckles. "I believe I know what you're thinking, Metit. It is a good plan."

"Oh god, the Tok'ra likes it," Mitchell heaves a sigh, which sounds utterly ridiculous in a stage whisper, "now I _know_ I'm gonna hate it."

"Why?" Danielle asks, all innocence. "Just because you're actually going to have to take out the Jaffa yourself this time?"

"Hey!" Mitchell protests, his stage whisper slightly shaky.

Ahead of her, Jacob comes to a stop and so does she. Behind her, there's a muttered curse as Mitchell also stops and the Tok'ra following him do the same. It's a bit ridiculous, so many of them crawling through the ship like this, but there's not much else that they can do. They're not leaving anyone behind.

"And then we just escort our captives right to the glider bay?" Jacob says. "Mitchell's right, it's crazy, but it just might work. We time it right, and we'll be in the gliders and launching before Anubis realizes its us."

"Pity we can't get a hold of O'Neill and move up the attack," Mitchell muses. "Firefight would make a great cover to escape through. Hey Jacob, think your Free Jaffa buddies could send a signal? Maybe drop a line to Earth, see if they're listening?"

"They can try. Hell, might have already," Jacob says, "but it's a risk. Anubis has things locked down pretty damn tight."

"Well, cross your fingers," Danielle says, watching Jacob open a panel and drop through into the corridor. "It's about time we had some good luck." God knows, what she's had so far has only gone from bad, to worse, to spectacularly disastrous and back again. "Ready?" she asks, looking down at him.

"As I'll ever be," Jacob says, holding up his hands. She drops down, letting him steady her as she hits the floor. "Just like falling off a log, right?"

"Something like that," Danielle says, nodding. She squeezes his hands as they move out of the way for the others and takes the chance to blurt, "I remember my name, Jacob. My _full_ name. I think, maybe, everything is a jumbled mess and I'm not sure how much is really memory and how much is just my imagination. I remember my name, but I think, before long, I'll be remembering more than that."

He beams a smile at her, but that fades quickly when she doesn't return it. "You're not happy about it?"

She hesitates before answering. "I am. I am. I'm tired of having a blank slate in my head, but I think I am a little scared." A little being somewhat of an understatement. "There's something – I meant to forget it. I came back to hide. Wipe my memory to keep something from Anubis."

"But you have no idea what it is?"

"Not a clue," Danielle sighs. "I get this feeling sometimes. Just -- " she shrugs. "Urgency. Like I need to remember fast, but if I remember it before we get off this ship -- "

"He finds out and the game's over," finishes Jacob. "Which, by the sounds of it, would be worst case scenario for all concerned?"

"I know it sounds alarmist, but yes, that's exactly what I think," Danielle says. "I don't know what it is, Jacob, but I'm sure. Anubis _can't_ know about it. If it was enough make him take a physical host again, then it's nothing good."

They start moving down the corridor, keeping close to the wall. It's little protection if the Jaffa find them, but Danielle can feel the pull of habit. She's done this before. The ease of familiarity says that she's done it many, many times. She looks back at Mitchell, tempted to ask, but reminds herself that now is not the time.

Obvious reasons aside, the very last thing she wants to do is jog her own memory. Every memory is a step closer to Anubis's goal.

Jacob stops. So fast, in fact, that Danielle almost tumbles into his shoulder. His hand comes back, resting on her arm and holding her in place. "We got company," he says in a low murmur.

Pressed against the wall, Danielle listens for the rhythmic footfalls. The cadence of the Jaffa steps is now a familiar one, but it's anything but comforting. She tenses, fingers sipping on the slick surface of the wall. They've got one shot at this and not nearly enough weapons to go around.

Mitchell edges past her, joined by Malek and a couple other Tok'ra. All of them put themselves between Danielle and the Jaffa. Danielle, though tempted to roll her eyes at their actions, doesn't argue. She's not one of the ones holding a zat and she knows what the others are doing. If she does know something, she knows that no one intends on giving her up without a fight.

Which they get.

The lead Jaffa go down quickly, falling underneath the wave of zatnicketel energy while their brethren take up position to return fire. There isn't much cover to be found, but they take what they can get, tucking themselves into small corners and doorways. This is familiar. Danielle drops into a combat stance before she can think about it, tucking herself against a support strut, reaching for a weapon that isn't there.

It's easy to picture it, remember the feeling of loading and reloading, the kickback from firing. Adrenaline surges through her veins like fire, pushing memories ahead of it and Danielle pictures fight after fight, the bullets and staff weapon energy blending together into a blur of death. Her stomach lurches and she grabs for the wall.

"Metit," Malek yells, his hand touching her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

She looks back at him. "Bad memories." She has to yell to be heard over the weapons fire. They're sparsely armed. A few zatnicketels and ribbon devices that their Jaffa spies were able to return. "I've done this before." More than this. She's killed. No memories come flooding to mind, no damning images, but she knows there's blood on her hands.

He smiles, tight and grim, and says, "Yes. Many times."

Staff weapon fire strikes the wall above their heads and he pulls her forward, shielding her. Danielle presses hands against him, gently forcing him to give way. "Worry about yourself, Malek," she says, not unkindly. "I'd rather not see you dead."

"And I would rather not see you in similar fashion," he returns.

She smiles. "Death and I are passing acquaintances. He doesn't stick around long where I'm concerned." At least not from what she's been told and what she's beginning to remember.

One of the Tok'ra falls, struck by a staff weapon blast, and Danielle breaks Malek's grip to run for her. Both Malek and Mitchell shout a warning, but she doesn't listen to either man. She curls her hands about the woman's arms, reassured by the way she reaches up to grip in return. Holding tight, she retreats as the Jaffa target them. Blasts whistle past Danielle's head, energy whipping her hair.

She stumbles, nearly falling, but then Malek's there and they're both pulling her back behind the others. She's awake, watching them, and Danielle remembers her name. "Zara?" she asks aloud, uncertain.

Zara nods. Zara's the host. She remembers that much. Ayala the symbiote. Danielle remembers her from negotiations. "The wound's not that bad," she says, examining it. "Ayala should be able to handle it."

"She is," Zara agrees. She slides the ribbon device from her hand, passing it to Malek without comment. He nods and stands to take her place. Danielle tucks herself against the wall, letting Zara settle against her. She keeps herself between Zara and the weapon fire. She's not exactly much protection for her, but she's doing _something_.

Helplessness isn't a feeling she's good with. She doesn't like feeling useless and, she has a feeling, it's not something she feels much. When she closes her eyes, she can hear the faint echo of staff weapon fire and the shouting of familiar voices. The ghosts of fights past twin themselves with the sounds of the present battle and Danielle leans her head against the wall.

"I want to go home."

"You will," Zara says. "We owe you that much after all this time."

"Owe me?"

Zara nods and Danielle's reminded that Ayala is a councillor (she's never been sure exactly how _that_ works, if it's just the symbiote or if it's both) and knows. "The Tok'ra and the Tau'ri have had an awkward relationship for many years. It has made things – difficult."

_"A political clusterfuck is more like it."_ A familiar voice – Jack? - cracks and Danielle has to fight the smile. She focuses on picking her next words carefully. "No one wants to be the one to make a bad situation worse."

That gets a laugh and an answer from the symbiote, "Perhaps," Ayala says, surfacing, "but it is no excuse for cowardice. We did not agree with the council's decision, but allowed ourselves to be voted down nonetheless. Selmak and Malek were right to fight for your return to Earth."

She looks down and Danielle feels the shift, knowing when she speaks, it'll be Zara and not Ayala. Zara's wound isn't going to kill her, but it will take Ayala's focus to heal. "We need to get out of here," she says, looking over her shoulder. The distance between them and the Jaffa is slowly disappearing.

They're losing ground.

Danielle closes her eyes, disappointment sinking in and smothering the anger before it can even begin to spark. She made a mistake. She knows that now. Whatever it is that she's trying to keep from Anubis, she's failing.

The thought should be chilling. The implications of it should scare her to the core, but it doesn't. She's merely resigned. It doesn't come as a surprise. Fatalism, it seems, is a character trait and a useful one. "If I'd stayed, no one would have helped me," the Others certainly didn't seem pressed to intervene on her behalf in their realm or in her own, "here, no one can. Beautiful."

"WATCH OUT!" Mitchell hollers, breaking into her train of thought. Danielle looks up to see part of a wall collapse, falling down atop the Jaffa.

She throws herself across Zara, hoping to protect her from further injury, and feels someone bending over her as well.

"Y'okay, Doc?" Mitchell asks, voice loud in her ear as the wall continues to crumble, chunks of it spill into the hallway, the smaller ones raining down.

"Been better," Danielle says, wincing when a piece strikes her in the cheek. "What caused that?"

"Beats the hell out of me," he answers. "Nobody was shooting at it."

The ship shudders, rocked by a blast from beyond the hallway. Danielle looks back at Mitchell, shifting beneath him to meet his stunned face, both coming to the same realization. "Think our call might have made it through?"

"God, I hope so," he says, taking Zara from her. "Let's go find out." He turns. "Carter? Any ideas?"

Jacob steps over a fallen Jaffa to get to a console, he stares at it for a moment or two before reporting, "Ship's definitely under attack."

"Our people?" Danielle asks.

"Can't tell," Jacob reports. "I try accessing those systems and Anubis'll know where we are for sure."

"Don't know about that one," Mitchell says, "The way we shot up the place? Pretty sure he might have noticed that."

Jacob grins. "Yeah, but his hands are a little full at the moment. We're not going to get a better chance to get out of here."

"All depends on who's doing the shooting," Danielle says. "If it's a rival system lord, we could end up in the crossfire."

"And if it's our people, we're golden," Mitchell says. "Either way, we can't stay here. We need to get to that glider bay and get the hell off the ship." He looks at Danielle. "Last thing we want is you back in a cell."

She shudders. "True. I just -- "

Jacob stops, worried. "What is it? Something wrong?"

"No," Danielle says, frowning. "It's just from what I can remember, if it weren't for bad luck, we wouldn't have had any at all."

Jacob grins. "Well, now, there you do have a point. Spectacular disasters have a habit of following you guys around."

Danielle shakes her head. "The more I find out about myself, the less I think I want to know."

"Aw, now, Doc, it's not like that," Mitchell says, passing Zara off to the Tok'ra. Malek and Jacob support her between them, cradling her carefully. "Trust me, these guys can vouch for it, it's not always pretty, but the SGC's one hell of a ride and just as soon as we get you back there, you're gonna get to see for yourself."

She nods. "I'm sure I will."

"You could try to sound a little more convinced, I'm giving you some of my best reassurance here." Mitchell winks. "You keep this up and it'll be a serious blow to my ego."

"Which could stand a hit or two, believe me," Jacob says, handing Danielle his zatnickatel. "Here, just in case we meet any company. I know it's not exactly a P-90, but it'll do the trick." He looks at Mitchell. "If it is our people and they're making a play for the weapon, the last place we're going to want to be is below decks."

"Blown to hell, huh?" Mitchell asks.

"If they found a vulnerability to exploit, yes," Malek agrees. "It will be difficult, but -- "

"But not impossible," Mitchell agrees. "I'd say, that if the SGC is attacking, then they've definitely figured out a vulnerability. We're not stupid enough to take a shot at Anubis that's gonna crash and burn. Whatever it is, I dunno, but if they're here, then they found _something_. Maybe one of your guys got something to them we haven't seen yet. You guys have been a little busy being tortured and all."

"And were out of contact before that," Danielle agrees. She looks at Zara. "Unless the council knows something I don't?"

Zara smiles faintly. "You know, so well as I, that we have operatives within Anubis's ranks, but not on this ship. All we have been able to determine, is basic schematics at best. If anything further has been found, we have not yet been briefed."

"What with the capture and torture and all." Mitchell agrees. "Right?"

She nods. "Correct."

"Then that's all I'm sayin'," he says, shrugging.

The group resumes walking. As soon as Malek and Jacob turn their backs, helping Zara along, Danielle elbows Mitchell sharply. "Be _nice_."

"I _am_," he says, all innocence. "Seriously. The Tok'ra are good people. Took care of you and everything – never bothered to mention that they _had_ you, but still, took care of you. Good people."

She raises an eyebrow. "It's a little late in the game to be resentful, Colonel."

"Oh, no, pretty much been this resentful since you showed up," Mitchell murmurs. "This never had to happen, Doc. The Tok'ra would've never been attacked and – son of a _bitch_. Jonas?"

His stop is so sudden that Danielle trips over her own feet. "What? Who?" She looks up, face to astonished face with the man Mitchell had called Jonas. "Oh, hi." She whirls, looking at Mitchell. "You know -- " she spins back just as quickly. "Wait, how did you get here?"

"Ringed up from Vis Uban," Jonas says. "We're, uh, it was a sneak attack."

"So that _is_ our guys," Mitchell whoops. "_AWESOME_."

"Not quite, Cameron," Jonas says. "There's only one way to destroy the weapon. That's what I'm doing here. The Tok'ra found a weak spot in the system. A heating duct. If we hit it when the weapon's powering up, then the weapon's history."

"I'm not seeing a bad to that," Cameron answers. "What's the bad?"

"We don't know where it is."

"That would be a bad," Danielle says, smiling sweetly at him.

Her comment draws Jonas's attention again. "I'm sorry, but, are you?" He looks at Cameron. "Is that?"

"Dr. Danielle Jackson in the flesh?" Cameron grins. "Yup. The Tok'ra've been putting her up for a few weeks."

"Metit," Malek says. "Do you not know this man?"

The concern in his voice is telling. Danielle sighs. "I should, shouldn't I?"

Jonas grins, but it's more rueful and guilty than anything happy. "Yeah, I'm the guy who got you killed."

At first, Danielle's not sure she heard him right. "I'm sorry, you what?"

"You didn't get her killed, Jonas," Cameron says, "We've been through this." His voice is tired, frustrated, and Danielle knows she's landed in the middle of a long-running argument. "You didn't. Danielle made the choice to do what she did."

"And what – " The memory of glass shattering cuts off her words. "Oh." She looks at Jonas. "We were in Kelowna. There was an accident and I -- "

"Sacrificed yourself."

"Radiation poisoning." Danielle nods. "That's why I remember the bandages. Dying." She looks at Jacob. "You were there."

"At the end, yes," he nods. "I was going to try and heal you, but Jack said you didn't want it." Jacob nods. "You told him to stop."

"I did?" Danielle thinks. "I did." She remembers the dream. "I -- " She shakes her head, trying to pull the fragments of memories together into something cohesive. They're elusive as ever, sliding through her mental grasp. She finally gives up with a sigh and a shrug. "I can't piece it together, but I remember that much. I did." She looks at Jonas, wishing she could do something about the guilt in his eyes. "_I_ chose it."

It isn't much reassurance, but it is all that she can offer. "Now, what exactly is it they need you to do?"

-

"You can't be serious, Danielle," Cameron says. "You are _not_ going to do this. We need to get you off this ship."

"And we're going to," Danielle agrees, strapping the zatnickatel to her side. "_After_ I help Jonas with the translation. We need this weapon crippled. We need Anubis out of the way. If we find this ventilation shaft, then we stand a chance at achieving both. I can't run and hide with that much on the line." She looks at Jacob. "You'll get everyone out of here?"

"Just as soon as you come back," he says, nodding. "Yes."

"Jacob," Danielle frowns. "You need to go. _Now_. You said yourself that there's never going to be a better time."

"And I'm also not leaving this ship without you," Jacob says. "There is no way in hell that I am going to go back to Jack O'Neill without you front and center. Forget arguing with me, Danielle, it's not happening."

"I can do this alone, Dr. Jackson," Jonas says, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I've been studying your research for the past year. I know how to do this."

"I'm sure," Danielle says, looking at him, "but that's not the point. I'm not leaving you here alone."

"And we're not leaving you either," Malek says. "I suggest that you hurry, Metit."

"_We_ hurry," Cameron says, hooking arms with Danielle, beaming at her. "Right, honey?"

She looks at him. "It would be wrong to shoot you, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," he says, nodding sagely, "yes it would."

Danielle scowls at him, but turns to Jonas. "All right," she says. "Let's go. You can explain it on the way."

To his credit, Jonas manages to lay out the entire plan by the time they reach their destination. He starts in on the lock while Cameron and Danielle watch.

"So, basically, the plan boils down to you finding the shaft, telling the others and getting the hell out of here before everything goes boom?"

"Yes," Jonas nods.

"Works for me," Cameron says.

"Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter are waiting with the Snakeskinners," Jonas continues. "They'll try to take out the weapon when I find the shaft's location while the others continue the attack on the ship."

Cameron grins. "Those're my kids out there?"

"Yes, sir," Jonas says. "They'll be glad to know you're all right."

"The hell they will," Cameron says, his grin wicked, "They should've totally taken this ship apart by now." He takes up position at the door. It's sealed, but nobody's taking any chances. "When I get back, they'll be doing drills until their Mommas cry uncle and show up to kick my ass."

Danielle looks at Jonas. "Is he always like this?"

Jonas considers it then nods. "Yes, pretty much. Colonel O'Neill loves him."

"And I _like_ Colonel O'Neill?" Danielle asks, despite knowing the answer. Her memories of Jack are in exactly the same state as the rest of her memory. A fragmented mess.

"He's your best friend," Jonas answers.

Danielle thinks about it. "I guess you could call it that." She pokes at the console. "I can see why the Tok'ra were so frustrated. This is a really, really obscure Ancient dialect. I barely understand it myself."

"But you do?" Jonas asks. "Better than I do anyway, you look like you're reading it. I'm a quick study, but I've spent months with this and I'm not nearly that close."

"Well, I just spent a year in the field," Danielle observes. "I think that counts as cheating."

Jonas's radio crackles, a familiar female voice filling the air, "Jonas, where are those coordinates? We're getting hammered out here!"

He pulls it out, but before he can answer, Danielle shakes her head at him. "Don't say I'm here."

"Why not?" he asks, confused.

"I think, if they're going to find out that I'm back, it should be face to face." Danielle smiles. "And when I'm sure we'll make it out of this alive." All things considered, it's a valid point. She bends over the console again, working faster. "I should have it in a minute."

"We'll have it for you in a minute, Major," Jonas says into his radio.

"We?"

Cameron closes the distance between them, taking the radio out of Jonas's hand. "Heya Major, you tell my kids not to fuck it up, all right? They make a mess out of my rescue and I am never, ever gonna live it down back home, got me?"

"MITCHELL?" Sam's voice is full of delight. "God, it's good to hear your voice."

"Not as good as it is to hear yours," Cameron says, his smile warm. "We'll be planetside in a jiffy. Just as soon as Jonas works another miracle." He looks at Danielle. "Any time you two pull off said miracle would be really hot. There's gonna be a whole lotta pissed off Jaffa between us and that glider bay before long."

"We could always try making for the rings." Danielle says, reading text as quickly as she can. It's faster than it should be and she knows she was right. She spent a year living with the Ancients, ascended or not, somewhere along the line she picked up the language.

It's not the only thing she picked up and, for a moment, Danielle can almost see her answer. The secret that sent her running back to the physical world. A face flashes in her mind. Beautiful and elegant.

"Yo, Doc, you okay?"

Cameron's voice breaks the moment and the face of the unknown woman is gone, taking her name, unremembered, with it.

"Fine, I think," Danielle says. "Just thought I was remembering something."

"And I interrupted," Cameron looks crestfallen. "Shit, sorry about that."

She smiles. "It'll come back to me, I'm sure. It all will."

"Hey, this is it!" Jonas says, excited. "I think this is it anyway. Dr. Jackson?"

Danielle looks back, focusing on what he's pointing at. "Yes," she nods. "I think it is. The description is right and it's definitely a ventilation shaft." She hesitates for a moment, staring at the information, then nods decisively. "Yes."

Jonas takes the radio back from Cameron and makes the call. He isn't even finished making it before Cameron is herding them both out of the room. "C'mon, boys and girls, I do believe our hosts are going to notice our presence any second and, awww shit." He shoves Danielle and Jonas hard, sending them sprawling around a corner when the Jaffa burst into view. "Like I said. All right, you two, you keep running, I keep shooting, and maybe we make it out of this alive."

Danielle gets up, bringing up the zatnickatel that Jacob had given her. "How about we both shoot and we definitely make it out of this alive?"

His answer was a grin and a nod. "You just never quit, do you, Doc?"

"Apparently not," Danielle says. "It's another one of my rediscovered traits. How am I doing?"

"Two more and you get a prize," Cameron says.

"A prize like what?"

"An all expenses paid trip to Earth. Sound like a plan to you?"

-

Danielle doesn't see much of Vis Uban, but the crumbling ruins seem oddly familiar. She looks up, taking in the towering statue as she walks across the field toward the Stargate. "I've been here before," she says to Malek. "But I don't remember when."

He nods, taking in the information. She can almost watch the process as Malek and host both consider and contrast it with everything they already know about her. For a moment, she sees a different face, sharp blue eyes that never stopped smiling, even when hearts were breaking, and she bites her lip.

Martouf.

"I'm sorry," she says, "about Martouf and Lantesh. What happened to them both -- "

Malek looks surprised. "You have remembered them?"

She nods. "Martouf and I talked about -- " she stops cold. Grief rips through her, stealing her breath and tripping her feet. Danielle stumbles, catching Malek's arm to hold herself up. "Oh _god_," she gasps, her throat choking up with tears. "_Atim_. My husband. Apophis -- "

_"Please, something of the host must survive? Right?" Her fingers slip agains the metal of Teal'c's armor as Jack and Sam drag her back. "Something must remain."_

A sob catches in Danielle's throat and she releases Malek, turning away from him. "I – I'm sorry. I lost control for a moment. I shouldn't have done that." She's shivering, cold and deep, and she can't stop. "I joined the SGC because of him, didn't I?"

"So I am told," Malek says. "I am sorry, Metit."

"And Apophis picked him as his new host because of me," she continues. "The husband of Ra's killer and conspirator in his own right. The ultimate triumph." She looks at Malek, watching as he averts his eyes, not quite able to meet her gaze. "Right?"

"We believe so, yes," Malek agrees, seemingly picking his words carefully. "There is a certain status to be achieved in such a humiliation."

Once started, the memories of Atim and Abydos flow free. She can feel the near-blistering heat of the Abydonian sun on her skin, smell the scent of the desert on her husband's body and feel him around her, in her, hear his laughter on the wind --

See his eyes flashing gold in the misty Chulak dawn.

Danielle shudders, hugging herself. She starts a little when hands land on her shoulders.

"I'd ask if you're okay," Jacob says, "But I'm pretty sure that'd be grounds to slap me and I've had enough of the rough stuff."

"I just was -- " Danielle sucks in a breath, shuddering again as she does, and tries again. "I was talking to Malek and I just _remembered_."

"Everything?"

"No, just Atim." She laughs, bitter. "Which is enough, if you ask me." She shakes her head. "God, Jacob, I destroyed him!" Before he can argue, she turns and points at him. "And don't try and say that I didn't. If I had gone back to Earth with the others, if I'd just left him to enjoy his life, then maybe he, Sha're, and Skaara would have just -- "

"Died," Jacob finishes. "That's the bitch of it, Danielle. They probably would have died anyway. With Ra dead, Apophis would have just assumed control of his territory and the first thing he would have done is crush the people. You gave them hope. That just wouldn't work for him."

"Being leading members of their society, participants in Ra's overthrow, they would have been his first targets," Malek adds. "You did nothing but extend their lives."

"And give Skaara back his." Jacob says. "I don't know how much you remember about that, but you stopped Anubis from destroying Abydos. From what Jack says, it was the last thing you did before you disappeared. Wiped out his entire fleet. Whatever you should be doing right now, Danielle, blaming yourself is _not_ one of it."

"Well, that's not going to stop me," she says, wondering why the hell she's being petulant about _this_?

Jacob smiles, sad and weary. "It hasn't stopped you in almost a decade. Why stop now?" Pressing a hand to her back, he steers her toward the Stargate. "And now, if you don't mind, Dr. Jackson, there is a planet full of people waiting to see you again."

She looks up at him. "It's not a planet full and they don't even know that I'm alive."

"So I'm taking a little creative licence," Jacob says, "Sue me." He reaches for the crystals, ready to dial home, but Danielle's hand beats him to it.

"This, I remember," she says, pressing the symbols. "Took me long enough to figure them out."

Cameron, Jonas, and the Tok'ra go through first. When it comes time for Danielle, she hesitates and looks at Malek and Jacob. "This goes bad -- "

Malek smiles. "You will always have a place with us, Metit."

"Thank you," Danielle says. She looks at the wormhole and takes a deep breath. "Okay."

-

She emerges into shadows and shades of grey. "The gate room."

"Look familiar?" Jacob asks, standing beside her.

"A little, maybe," Danielle says. "I really, I honestly don't know. It _seems_ like it should be, but nothing's looked familiar in so long that maybe I'm just over-thinking it." She lets her eyes slide over the room, trying to see it with fresh eyes, without any of the hope attached and can't. "I know this. I think I know this."

Cameron's at the end of the ramp, looking up her with a smile on his face. "So, yeah, sir," he says to someone standing behind him, "we kind of picked up a little souvenir on Anubis's ship for you."

Danielle isn't sure who he's talking to for a moment until the Tok'ra before her move out of the way and she sees him standing just a few feet away. Green uniform, grey hair, sharp eyes. _Him_ she knows. Him she remembers from half a dozen fragments. Not enough to make a coherent picture, but that doesn't matter, she knows him nonetheless. Her breath catches in her throat, looking at him.

"Jack."

He looks up, following Cameron's line of sight, and she knows the exact moment it connects for him. He stares at her, disbelieving, and she freezes in place. She doesn't know, exactly, what she's so nervous about, but she is. She stands there, fingers curled into the hem of her coat, and waits.

"Danielle?"

She nods. "I think."

Jack looks at Cameron. "Where the hell did Anubis find her?"

"With us," Jacob says. "Danielle's been living with the Tok'ra for the past couple of months."

Jack's expression hardens. "So, pretty much from the moment we lost contact with her?"

"From what I can figure out, yeah," Jacob nods. "It wasn't that long after that she showed up on one of our planets." He clears his throat. "Naked. Not a clue who she was."

Jack blinks. "Uh, what?"

"Complete amnesia," Malek puts forward. "Metit had no idea of her name and no memories of who she might be."

"Ah, but you knew who she was, right, Sparky?" Jack asks. His voice is flat. Too flat. He's furious. Danielle bites her lip. The conversation is already skewing out of her control, slipping with Jack's temper. "Had to. Not many people in the Tok'ra don't know Danielle on sight."

"They knew," she says, interrupting before Malek can answer. "Of course they knew." Walking down the ramp, she comes face to face with Jack. "They were afraid to tell you. Something about you thinking they'd been the ones to cause my amnesia."

Jack scoffs. "Never even crossed my mind."

"I might have amnesia," Danielle says, "but even I know that's bullshit. They gave me a safe place to say and tried to help. It didn't do much good, of course, but they still tried." She looks back at Malek. "Some of them have been real friends."

He tips his head in acknowledgement of the compliment and Danielle turns around. "Besides, I think I had something to do with ending up there."

Jack looks down at her. "You think _you_ had something to do with it?"

"Yes," Danielle nods. "I think that I did." She's sure that she did. Explaining that, however, isn't one she's in a hurry to try.

He scowls. "Why the hell would you do something like that?"

She shrugs. "I have absolutely no idea."

"Of course, you don't," Jack says, shaking his head. "If I had any doubts, that did it. It's you."

"Danielle!"

Danielle turns, watching a blonde head thread her way through the crowded Gate Room, trying to reach them. When she emerges from the crowd and Danielle can see her, she finds the face is a familiar one. Sam. She looks at Danielle with a wide, excited smile, and Danielle finds herself smiling in return. Albeit, her smile is considerably more reserved. "Yes."

"Uh, Carter, it's her, but she doesn't really remember much," Jack says, intervening, though it's unnecessary. Sam's smile falters as she looks at Danielle. "Apparently our good Dr. Jackson has a small problem with her memory being missing."

"I remember some," Danielle says. "Enough to know that's Sam, but not much more than that. It's coming back to me slowly, but it does seem to be coming back." She looks past them at the man standing a few feet away, silently watching. She knows him too. From the top of his bald head to the regulation-perfect shiny shoes. "I know you, don't I?" she asks, not stopping her smile.

"Yes, Doctor, you do," he says, smiling. The smile is a familiar comfort, warming her right down to her own toes. "It's good to see you, Danielle."

Her throat tightens. "It's good to be seen, I think."

"Danielle, this is General Hammond. He's an old friend of yours."

She can believe it. "I know," she says, pleased to say it.

"Well, as good as it is to see you, Dr. Jackson, there are certain protocols to be observed," General Hammond says. "We need to get you checked out and make sure that you're all right." He gestures a woman forward. "Dr. Fraiser will take you down to the infirmary and get started."

Danielle looks at the doctor. Fraiser's watching her with eyes that hint at tears. "I know you," she says. It seems to be all she can say to each and every introduction, but this one, like Sam, she's sure of. She knows this woman. "Janet?"

"Yes," Janet says. "It's me. How -- "

"It's hard to explain," Danielle says. "Mostly because I don't remember much of it." She sighs. "I keep saying that but it's the truth."

"It's all right," Janet says, "We'll get to the bottom of this." She takes hold of Danielle's elbow, guiding her forward. "Danielle -- "

"You were there," Danielle realizes. "When I was dying. You tried to help."

"I tried to ease the pain," Janet says with a quaver in her voice. "There wasn't much else that i  
I could do. I'm sorry."

"No," Danielle says. She takes Janet's hands in hers, squeezing, _needing_ to convince her of this. "You don't have to apologize. Not for that. None of you do." She looks back at the others, watching the way they look at her. "If anything, I'm the one to blame."

-

The examination is thorough, but brief. By the time Janet is done, Danielle is convinced there isn't one cell in her body that hasn't gotten a complete going over. She's pulling her shirt back on just as Jack walks into the infirmary.

"So, all done?"

"Mostly," Janet says. "Physically, she's Danielle in every detail. All scars, surgical and non, are accounted for as well as pre-existing medical conditions." She hands Danielle a pair of glasses. "Right down to that."

Danielle slips them on, relieved when the world comes into focus. "Oh, yes, thank you," she says with a grateful sigh. "The Tok'ra tried to fix it, but -- " she shrugs. "Apparently healing devices were never built for that kind of problem."

"Well, no surprise there," Jack says. "Number of times you've been in and out of those sarcophaguses – sarcophagi - of theirs, you should have better than twenty twenty." He sits down across from her, not a flicker of discomfort in his eyes, but Danielle sees him begging, in a whisper, to end it. To kill him.

"I owe you an apology," she says quietly.

Confusion flickers in his eyes. "For?"

"You were asking me to kill you," she says. "To stop the sarcophagus from bringing you back. I didn't do it. I couldn't. I'm sorry, Jack, but I gave that order once, I couldn't do it again." She starts to reach for him but pulls back. "I just couldn't."

He clears his throat. "Yeah, well, uh, I shouldn't have asked. Let's just chalk it up to temporary insanity and leave it there, okay?"

"Jack -- "

"Mean it, Danielle," he insists. "Never mention it again."

She frowns. "We should --"

"Forget it." This time Jack's voice is hard. "I've spent the last few months doing every damn thing I could not to think about that, this is not the time to start dragging it out again, all right?"

Danielle swallows, nodding. "All right."

He looks surprised. "All right?" He turns, looking at Janet. "We sure that's her? Danielle's never been that agreeable in her life."

Janet shakes her head. "I can sedate him if you want."

Danielle smiles. "No, I think they might notice if we did that." She bites her lip, looking at Jack. "Besides, he's right. I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm guessing they didn't know?"

"They know some. The doc knows most of it." Jack shrugs. "It was a rough time."

She nods. "So, uh, I guess that there are probably a lot of people waiting to ask me some questions."

"Yes, yes there are. Most of whom you owe money to," Jack says. "I did mention the fifty bucks you owe me, right?"

"No," Danielle gets up. "Where do we go next?"

"Wherever," Jack says. "I'd be the guy who gets to ask all the questions. Something about me having a trustworthy face. They figure you'll open up easier."

She laughs. "No."

"No?" he asks, looking wounded. "Really? After all the years we've known each other, you don't trust me at all?"

"I don't remember if I do or not," Danielle says, honest. "Amnesia."

"Yeah, it's a bitch," Jack nods. He gets up. "C'mon, we'll do the ten cent tour and you can try and remember a few things for me."

-

They're in the commissary, Danielle eyeing a piece of pie when Jack asks. "Why the Tok'ra?"

"Hmm?" she asks, poking the meringue with a fork. "What?" Her distraction is completely fake, of course, but she hopes that it's convincing. It's the only thing that seems to work. All the questions that she can't answer, it just keeps getting more and more awkward, and she can feel the frustrated tension behind every single one and feel it getting worse and worse. Jack seems content to let her drift away. Is almost relieved by it.

"You went to the _Tok'ra_," Jack says. "Why those guys? You went and hid with the fucking _snakes_, Danielle. Why not come home? We could have helped."

"NO," Danielle snaps. "No, you can't. I need to do this, Jack. I need to help. There's something -- " She slams a hand down on the table, a vicious oath springing to her lips. She has no idea where the reaction is coming from, but it _is_ and she doesn't try to hold it back.

"Okay," Jack says, cautious, "I have no idea what you just said, but I'm pretty sure I should be getting some soap about now."

Her hand is stinging. Danielle looks at it, rubbing her fingers against her palm. "I almost remembered."

"You almost remembered what?"

"I don't know," Danielle says. "That's why I can't remember it. If I knew what it was, then I'd remember, wouldn't I?"

"You know that thing where you like to talk in riddles and, occasionally, English?" Jack makes a face. "Didn't really miss that part so much."

She smiles. "Right. Of course not."

He steals her pie and sits back with it. "All right, so there's something important that you need to remember, something about the Tok'ra, but you have absolutely no idea what it is. Whatever it is, however it was important enough for you to blow off your friends and family and run away to the Tok'ra. Now here's the part where I really start speculating. Whatever it is, you think it's some kind of chance to atone. Not exactly sure what you're trying to atone _for_, but with you that's no surprise. You tend to make this shit up as you go."

"Everything." Danielle says. "We derailed their entire civilization, Jack. They're dying out even faster than before and it's our fault."

"Yeah?" he challenges. "And who says that, you or them?"

She glares. "Since when have I ever been worried about what anyone else thought? This is _my_ read on the situation."

"You don't remember what the situation is!"

Danielle huffs. "Calling Stargate Command the bull in a china shop would cover it, I'm thinking. Damn it, Jack, The alliance was supposed to be more than this. We were supposed to be better for it, not destroying them. This is our chance to fix it." She sighs. "I just have no idea how I'm supposed to do that."

"Well, whatever it was you were going to do, you were certain enough to kick off the Ascended plain and join us mere mortals again – naked apparently – and run off to join the circus. Somewhere in that vacant space you call a memory is probably the reason." Jack leans across, tapping her forehead. "Care to try and shake it loose?"

"I have been," Danielle says. "Pretty much from the moment I woke up among the Tok'ra. I didn't tell them that, but I knew there was an important reason that I was there. I didn't know what it was, but I knew that. This is the closest that I've come to remembering anything about it the entire time I've been back. Anubis -- "

She falls silent. Anubis.

Jack watches her, eyes sympathetic, but angry. He can't quite hide his temper from her. He never could. "Mitchell said you and the old fart spent a lot of time topside together. I'm guessing you weren't playing Gin Rummy, right?"

"No," she says, fingers white-knuckled around her fork. "He was trying to make me remember."

"Oh yeah?" Jack's eyebrows raise. He's interested. Maybe interested enough to consider what she's saying. "So whatever it is that sent you running to the Tok'ra, Anubis wanted to know what it was too."

She nods. "I'm the reason he attacked the Tok'ra base in the first place. He was looking for me. He didn't say what he was trying to find, but, trust me, he was _very_ thorough in the looking."

Jack scowls. "Some day I am going to find that son of a bitch and I am going to kill him. Half-ascended or no. I am gonna kill him."

"He isn't," Danielle says.

"What?"

"Half-ascended. He isn't that anymore. Anubis has retaken a human host." Danielle lets the fork drop, clattering to the tabletop. "He wouldn't tell me why, but it was part of his plan. He needs to have a human host for it to work." Which is bugging her. More than most things at present. "He had all that power, but he gave it up. The Others wouldn't have stopped him, they don't care enough. Yet he still came back."

"And you think there's a reason for it."

"No think, I _know_," Danielle insists. "He said as much." She picks up her coffee cup, cradling it between her palms, letting the familiar sent wash over her. "God, I missed coffee." She raises the mug to her lips to take a long sip of the coffee, sighing in satisfaction. "I _really_ missed it."

Jack looks amused. "I'm getting that impression, yeah. You two wanna get a room or something?"

She blushes a little, putting it down. "Sorry."

He shrugs a little, waving a hand. "So, Anubis, got chatty up there?"

"As chatty as he ever gets," she agrees. "Like I said, he was trying to make me remember something. Whatever that something was, I think it's what brought the both of us back. He had plans for that weapon, Jack, and I can't explain how I know, but I do know that whatever they were, it was a lot more detailed than just wiping us out. I think humanity's almost an afterthought in all this. Anubis didn't take a human host again just to watch Washington go down in flames. There's something else at play here, something bigger. I've been trying to remember what it was ever since I woke up with the Tok'ra, but it's like part of me doesn't _want_ to remember."

"The part that knew Anubis was chasing the same thing?" Jack wonders.

"Probably," Danielle nods. She sighs. "I just don't – Why? Why would I choose to do this like this? I put the Tok'ra in danger, I put _myself_ in danger, and for what? Somebody I don't even know, who might not even _exist_?"

Jack sits up, looking at her. "So, you're trying to protect a person? Someone important to Anubis?"

She hesitates, thinking over what she'd said. "I --- I have no idea."

"Excuse me, Colonel," Janet says from the doorway, "But it's time Danielle got some rest." She smiles, crossing the room to take the coffee cup out of Danielle's hand. "Which this certainly will not help."

"They're getting reacquainted," Jack says.

"Well, they'll have to do that later," Janet says. "You need your sleep, Danielle. Stress and exhaustion aren't going to make it any easier to recover any memories."

Danielle nods. "I know," she says, standing. "Talk to you later?"

"Oh, I'd say we're good for a few more conversations," Jack says. "You still owe me fifty bucks."

She shakes her head. There's an SF waiting at the door for her. She leaves Janet and Jack talking quietly behind her and lets the SF escort her from the room.

-

Guards.

Shaking her head, Danielle walks the corridors of Stargate Command, fully aware of the watchful eyes of the SFs guarding her. They stop before a door, one standing at her shoulder while the other unlocks it.

She stands mute between them. Angry. This is _wrong_. She doesn't remember, but she knows all the same. She's a prisoner now. A prisoner in her own _home_. She closes her eyes, digging fingernails into her palms, needing the reassurance of the pain's bite.

The guard unlocking the door looks at her, "Your room, Dr. Jackson," he says. He steps back, bidding her to enter.

Danielle looks at him, correcting him with, "My cell." She knows if she decided to go anywhere else right now, she'd be told no. With her back straight, shoulders square, she steps inside and lets them close the door behind her. It locks.

She wants to laugh, except she knows it would come out as a sob and she won't. Not here. Not ever. Instead, she walks across the room to the bed. "Diplomatic quarters," she murmurs. More than one of the SGC's 'guests' has paced these floors.

For a while, she sits on the edge of the bed and watches the door. Sooner or later, one of them will come to see her. Mitchell, Sam, definitely Teal'c, but maybe Jack. She doubts Jack. "He isn't good with this."

Danielle sighs, squirming her way into the middle of the bed. She stretches out, looking at the ceiling. The dull grey of the concrete ceiling offers little to focus on, but she stares at it anyway. Her mind is, for once, mercifully quiet. So much fighting to remember and fighting to get back here. Now she is, surrounded by the people who are, supposedly, her nearest and dearest and she's locked in a cell, waiting for politicians and generals to decide what to do with her.

The door unlocks, swinging open, and she lifts her head to smile ruefully at Jonas. "I guess this is how you must have felt."

He looks confused. "I'm sorry?"

Trying to smile, Danielle sits up. "No, I'm sorry. My memory may be spotty, but I remember that." She nods at the corridor behind him. "They didn't treat you very well."

His smile is a thousand times more genuine than hers, as chagrined as it is. "I got you killed. They had a right."

"We've had this discussion before and my answer's the same now as it was then. The hell they did," she gestures to the bed. Have a seat."

He only hesitates for a second before sitting down. "You were here then?"

Danielle sees Sam, Teal'c, and Jack standing by the elevator. She reaches out to touch Jack, her touch a breeze on the wind, and then she's looking at Jonas again. "From time to time." It's about the only part of the entire thing that makes any sense. Ascending to a higher plane of existence, immersing herself in all the knowledge of the universe, and discovering --

It's there. For a split second, Danielle can feel it. What sent her back, what pulled her from that higher plane, drove her into the Tok'ra's tunnels. It's _there_, she can almost see the features of a face, and then it's not. It's gone again and she has no idea who it was or why they're so important and Jonas is staring at her as if she's sprouting a second head.

She sighs. "Sorry."

"Are you all right?" he asks, then blushes. "Uh, how about we forget I asked that? Obviously, you're not all right, you're – I mean, yeah. It's just -- "

"Accurate," Danielle says. "I haven't been all right for a long time. I might have amnesia, but I remember what this place can do to you." And she does. The Stargate program rips you apart, puts you back together piece by piece, and just when you think you can stand on your own feet, it does it all over again.

She loves, and hates, it.

"I'm going to guess, by the look on your face, you know too."

Jonas looks guilty. "I shouldn't. After everything that's happened, I shouldn't."

"You know, Jonas, if you keep bringing that up, our conversations are going to become extremely limited," Danielle says, "what happened in Kelowna wasn't your fault." And it wasn't. She knows that. He should know that. Everyone else should know that. Which is precisely why everyone keeps forgetting. "Not that it stopped anyone. I owe you an apology for that. The SGC has always been fairly insular, but -- " Insular. It's high school. Somewhere along the line she became one of the 'cool kids' – and isn't that a fucking joke? - and he took the brunt of it. She takes a breath. "I'm not going to force you off the team, Jonas." She feels guilty and a little ridiculous saying it, but also knows it has to be said. Just as she knows the whispers probably started the second she walked through the gate, before she'd even started down the ramp.

Never mind that the brass doesn't trust her, that Teal'c's the only one who doesn't look at her like they're waiting for the mask to come off, and that she can't remember her own address, much less the dozen and one protocols for offworld missions.

"I probably couldn't get medical clearance to do paperwork," she adds. "Going offworld is completely out of the question." She's not even sure she'll ever want to go back to that. She's had enough of the universe turning her life into a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

"I'm not worried about that," Jonas says.

"Maybe not, but I still wanted to make it clear," Danielle smiles. "I owe you that much."

"You don--"

"Yes, I do," she says. "And if we keep having this argument, I may change my mind."

He grins, blushing again. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," she says. "You didn't come here for that."

"No, I did," he says. "I never got the chance after." He doesn't have to say anymore, Danielle remembers the feeling of glass slivers cutting her skin and the sound of his shouting filling her ears. "They wouldn't let me talk to you."

Bandages pressing against her skin, blood rising in her throat, Danielle coughs, surprised when she doesn't spit any out. "It was probably better that way," she says, quiet. "I wasn't good for conversation." She sees guilt color his face and, realizing her mistake, shakes her head. "No, I don't mean it like that."

And she doesn't. "I just don't remember a whole lot, but I remember that. Neither of us were in the position to have it." He looks at her and she laughs. "Okay, so maybe we aren't any better right now, but we're still having it." She sits on the bed, cross-legged, and looks him in the eye. "Why did you come here?"

"To apologize."

She dismisses the answer with a look. "Why did you come here?"

He looks uncomfortable, ill at ease, and then sighs. "Because I remember when they brought me here."

"The walk of shame," she supplies.

Jonas nods. "Everyone watches you with that look in their eyes. Like you're _alien_."

"Different," Danielle says, translating it into what it really is. "Around here, aliens are normal, Jonas." She looks back at the door, remembering the look in the eyes of the personnel that she'd passed in the hall. "They've never looked at me like that before."

"They've never looked at me any other way."

Her gaze goes back to Jonas, his face a study in sadness. "I'm sorry, Jonas."

He tries to smile. "So am I."

-

He's right, of course. The others do look at her like an alien. They're trying, she can see that much, and they're putting up a good show. If she didn't know them as well as she does, she might even believe it.

Danielle doesn't remember much, but she knows that much. She can read their expressions, the looks in their eyes, the thousands of tiny nonverbal cues. They don't trust her.

"They're afraid of me," she says, looking at Malek. "I don't think I can blame them either. The last time they saw me, I was -- " She sees death gliders falling from the sky, bursting into flame and ripping themselves apart before they ever touch the Abydonian desert. "I -- "

She laughs. "I have no idea how to describe what I was."

"Ascended." Malek says. "And, from what I have heard, very, very angry."

"From what you have heard?" Danielle raises her eyebrows. "Am I some kind of Tok'ra urban legend?"

"I do not know what that is," he says, "but our operatives on Abydos witnessed you performing inexplicable feats with the raise of a hand. Ascension seems to grant incredible powers."

"That I wasn't supposed to use," Danielle says, remembering the feeling of condemnation. "The Others didn't try to stop me, I remember that, but they definitely didn't approve." She was Oma's responsibility. Oma was the one who was supposed to deal with her. Just like Oma was the one who was supposed to stop Anubis.

She shakes her head, angry. "I wish I could remember what it is."

"We are no longer talking about Abydos, are we?" Malek asks.

"No," she smiles, guilty. "I'm sorry, I seem to be stuck on one note lately, but it feels like things are getting desperate. As if there's a clock counting down somewhere and I'm running out of time. If I don't remember soon, I think we are all in a terrific amount of trouble."

Malek's eyes narrow. "You are going to ask me to use the device again."

"I didn't ask you in the first place," Danielle reminds with an impish smile. "I asked Jacob and Selmak." And would ask them again except Jacob is with Sam and she won't interrupt that for anything. "Please, Malek. It seems like the only way I can push past the wall is if there's some kind of technology helping me."

"I must disagree," he says. "You remembered your husband without any assistance from us or prompting from Anubis."

"Yes, but that was random, spontaneous. If I wait for my memory to just randomly spit out the information we need, there is a very good chance that you'll all be dead before I do." Danielle leans forward, curling her fingers around Malek's. "Contact the Tok'ra. Ask for one of the devices. We don't have enough time to put any hope in luck."

"I don't think I like the looks of this," Jack says, walking over. "Canoodling with the Tok'ra in the commissary? Careful, Danielle, folks'll talk." His tone is too light and casual for Danielle to believe it to be truth. He's upset.

She sits back, looking at him, trying to read the answer to why in his eyes, "They already are, Jack. Amnesia's good for the gossip mill. Showing up with no memory and wearing Tok'ra clothing?" She shrugs easily. "It's a dream come true for the SGC gossips."

"Well, you do have a point there," he says, sitting down. "So, if you don't mind my asking, what has you two putting your heads together?"

Danielle bites her lip, fully aware that Jack isn't going to like this. "When I was with the Tok'ra, I was trying to remember who I was." She hesitates. "I, uh, asked Jacob to use their memory device on me. I knew I'd seen it used before, on Sam I think, and that it worked."

"You let them put one of those things in your _head_?" he asks, expression darkening.

"Well, it wouldn't have worked as well if they'd stuck it in my foot," Danielle retorts. "Or other places you might suggest. It was the only option I had, Jack, I went with it. Jacob was there with me."

"I'll bet he was," Jack says. "If that didn't work, what was the next plan? Stick a snake in there and see what it could shake loose?"

Danielle takes a deep breath. "Malek, would you mind giving us a moment?"

"Of course, Metit," he says, immediately standing. "I believe Selmak requires my presence."

She watches him go and when he's out of earshot - _Tok'ra_ earshot – she looks at Jack. "I'm beginning to think I don't _want_ to remember anything, not if you're this big of an asshole all the time."

"I have my moments," he says, shrugging.

"And your issues with the Tok'ra," Danielle adds.

"You noticed that, huh?"

"Everyone in the room noticed that." She leans forward, careful not to knock over her coffee. "You might not like him, but Malek is my _friend_."

"A friend who didn't bother to tell you he knew your name," Jack says. "Didn't tell you for _months_."

"I knew that he knew, Jack," Danielle says, "I knew. They all did. I could see it. Trust me, the Tok'ra make great undercover operatives, but they're also terrible liars."

Jack frowns. "And you're not the slightest bit irked that they neglected to mention they knew who you were?"

She laughs. "Of course I was, but I knew them. The Tok'ra like secrets. All the yelling and screaming in the world wouldn't have done anything to change that. I also had more important things to worry about like my completely blank memory and the persistent feeling that the world was about to end. But if we're going to talk about me being a little irked by things, maybe we should discuss the treatment I'm getting around here. With the Tok'ra, I could go where I wanted, when I wanted. No locks, no guards. I can't say the same of Stargate Command. I thought this supposed to be my home."

"It is."

"Yes, well, it doesn't much feel like it," Danielle pulls off her glasses, swiping at a smudge with her borrowed shirt. "I haven't even _seen_ Teal'c." She remembers Teal'c. Not a lot, but more than some of the others. The first memories of him flooding back with Atim. Memories tinged with hate and resentment. Teal'c took him. Teal'c _chose_ him. The memories of that time are more fragmented than the rest. Fuzzy around the edges, like she couldn't bear to remember them before she lost it all. "You had to convince me to work with him."

"Took me days," Jack agrees, nodding. "You wouldn't even let me finish the first time I tried to tell you."

"I hated him." Danielle shakes her head. It doesn't take much to feel the old rage again. She'd lived those first few weeks and months putting one foot in front of the other, never thinking too far beyond the next mission, the next chance to find Atim, Sha're, and Skaara. The idea of spending each and every one of those days walking alongside the man that had 'selected' them. Hate's too tame a word for the emotion she'd carried with her for a long time. "It's funny. If you'd told me then how I'd feel now -- " She sighs. "All of this just keeps coming back. Wave after wave. Things popping up at random. All of it coming at me from all sides or disappearing all together. With Jacob and the device I had some control over it. I need that."

"You really want Malek and Jacob to stick that thing in your head again?" Jack asks, looking skeptical. "Danielle, it's insane. We don't even know what Anubis did to the inside of your head yet. For all we know, plugging the Tok'ra device in there could permanently scramble what's left of your brain."

"And that would be different how?" Danielle smiles, not really feeling the amusement behind it. "Ask Dr. Fraiser if you want a second opinion, but I plan on going ahead with it."

He sighs. "I don't like this idea."

"As much as I dislike the idea of not being able to remember whole parts of my life?" Danielle asks, watching him. "I look at you, Jack, and I know I'm forgetting something. I _know_ I am, but I can't remember what it is. Do you have any idea how that feels? I can't remember so much. My friends, my family, all of it. All I have are bits and pieces and I'm tired of it. I've been living like this for months now and I'm tired. If you can find a better way of helping me, then fine, but suggest it fast." She gets up, angry. "Because I'm sick of waiting."

He looks up, catching her off-guard with the utter loss in his eyes. "Danielle -- " he reaches for her hand, just a minute flick of his fingers, enough that she somehow knows what he wants. She's tempted by the promise, but pulls away.

Angrier than ever, she stalks off, leaving him staring after her.

It's a mistake, she knows it's a mistake, but she keeps going anyway. Right now, she needs to be wrong. No matter how much pain she sees in his eyes.

-

This time, the door stays unlocked. It's a small victory, but Danielle's not going to argue it. Not when she can open the door and walk out in the hall. For a moment, she bites her tongue, not sure which direction to take.

"I, um," she looks at the SF, angry with herself for feeling lost, "I wanted to see Teal'c."

He looks sympathetic. She wasn't expecting that anymore than she expects his offer, "I can show you?"

Danielle presses her lips together, hesitating. It's unexpectedly galling to need someone's help, but she forces herself to nod and smile politely. "Yes, please, thank you," comes out with less bitterness than she feels which is a minor victory. She's still learning to take them as they come, something, she thinks, is not new.

And not any more successful.

"Seems you didn't much need my help, ma'am," the SF says.

Danielle looks up at him. "I'm sorry, what?"

He smiles, gesturing at the door in front of her. "I don't think you needed my help." He tips his head to indicate her feet. "Your brain might be scrambled, but your feet have it covered."

She grins, rueful. "At least one part of me does."

The SF, Parker, laughs. "No worries, Dr. Jackson, the rest of you'll catch up before long. It's not like you haven't done it before." He hesitates, uncertainty creeping into his amusement. "I, uh, it's -- " He scratches the back of his neck. "It's really good to see you again. You probably don't remember me, I mean, I uh, was a new transfer, but -- "

Danielle wishes she could say something. Pull a memory out of some corner of her mind, but there's nothing. She guesses that he can see it in the look on her face.

"You don't have to apologize, ma'am," he says. "I meant what I said. It's really, really good to see you again. This place hasn't been the same since you, um, well, since you left." He steps back, taking a more formal pose. "When you're ready, I'll walk you back." His eyes glimmer with a hint of mischief. "Just in case."

She nods and turns, lifting a hand to knock. Her knuckles never make contact, the door swings open to reveal Teal'c, waiting.

"Danielle Jackson," he says, solemn-faced, but there's a warmth in his eyes she can't deny.

"Hi, Teal'c," she swallows, nervous. "Can I come in?"

He nods and steps back, letting her pass. "I have been expecting you would visit." He closes the door behind her before adding, "I apologize for my absence at your return." His expression tightens with anger. "There was some difficulty in returning from Yu's fleet."

Danielle shakes her head. "Politics and strange bedfellows," she sits on the edge of the bed, looking at Teal'c. "Is he as bad as I hear?"

"Yes," Teal'c says, sitting across from her on a chair. He leans forward. "Time among the Tok'ra agrees with you. You look well."

"It's the diet," Danielle says. "Clean living." She pauses. "That didn't sound much like me."

"You do, on occasion, use terminology and idioms which likely find their origin with O'Neill." Teal'c says. "You have commented on his improper influence before."

"I don't remember doing it," Danielle says, "but it sounds right."

Teal'c nods. "I wish to thank you, Danielle."

She looks at him, close, and ventures to ask, "So, it wasn't a dream, right? What I remember is even more confusing than the rest of it." She shakes her head, folding her legs and resting her forearms on them. "I checked and I have multiple doctorates, but not a one of them is in psychiatry or psychology, so why do I remember treating you? And why were you a _firefighter_?"

"That was indeed a dream," Teal'c says, "but I believe it to be a construct you created to save my life. Bra'tac and I were meeting with the leaders of the rebel Jaffa. We were double-crossed and slaughtered. Only he and I survived among hundreds. I attempted to sustain our lives by passing my symbiote back and forth between us."

"But you couldn't keep it going forever," Danielle says. "And I _felt_ it." The sickening twist of pain. The absolute certainty that her friend was in danger. The horror at finding him and Bra'tac. "I tried to help."

"There was no trying," Teal'c insists. "Were it not for you, Danielle, I would have died."

"I just -- " Danielle tries to remember, but it's spotty. "I just held your hand." She bites her lip, looking at her hands for a long moment. "Figuratively of course." And that was the worst part. Not being able to touch him, to run to the Stargate, to call home for help. All she could do was – "The dreams were just, well, they weren't enough."

"I survived," Teal'c says. "Bra'tac survived. Without your support, I do not believe it would have been possible. You must not discount the impact your presence had, Danielle. I do not."

"I felt helpless," Danielle says. "You were fighting for your life _and_ Bra'tac's. I was useless to do anything. The others wouldn't let me -- " she shakes her head, pushing the thought off. "It doesn't matter. You survived and that is the only part of all this that matters."

"I have survived and you have returned." Teal'c nods. "All is as it should be."

"Mostly," Danielle says. "How is your son?"

"Grown." Teal'c says, undisguised pride taking over his features. "Ry'ac has become a fine warrior in the defense of his people. When there is time, I will take you to see him. There are many among the Free Jaffa who will be pleased to know you are all right."

"I can't imagine who. Beyond Bra'tac and Ry'ac, most of them don't even know my name."

"I speak well of you," Teal'c explains, "and SG1 has become known among the Jaffa." He looks amused. "To kill one god is a feat beyond imagining, but many?"

Danielle raises one eyebrow. "So, exactly what does that mean and do I want to know?"

He smiles, small though it is. "It would be complicated to explain indeed, but know that you are respected."

Danielle looks at him. He's healthy. Happy. Just seeing him is enough to lift her spirits, but something tugs at her, tickling in her memory. There's something that she needs to tell him. Something she can't remember. "God, I hate this, Teal'c. There's just so much that I _have_ to tell people, things I'm certain are of the utmost importance and I can't make myself remember. Nothing I do helps."

"You have been using the Tok'ra memory device, have you not?" Teal'c asks.

"Yes, but it doesn't do any good." Danielle sighs. "I mean, yes, it _does_, but it's random. From all over my life. The last few decades, the last few weeks, it's all over the place. One minute I'm remembering Ra dying, the next -- "

"You are recalling being Ascended, standing over your friend on an alien world."

"Yes, exactly," Danielle pushes her hands into her hair, back behind her ears, sliding fingers over her neck and pressing into her skin. "God. I just – I did this to myself, Teal'c. I did this to myself. Why would I do that? I know I wanted to protect a secret. Someone else's secret, but I can't imagine a secret that would be worth _this_."

She gets up, suddenly eager to be moving, memories of Ascension pushing at her from all sides. "All the power in the universe, Teal'c, and I was helpless. My friends -- " she looks at him, agonized. "You, Jack, you were both _dying_ and all I could do was sit there and watch. If I did _anything_ to help, then I'd be stopped. And then Anubis started -- " she stops, swearing when the memories fizzle out. Fading into nothing again. She laughs, the sound nothing like laughter at all. "It's gone. I know Anubuis was going to do _something_, Teal'c. Something terrible and all of you were at risk and there was someone else, I know that, but I _can't remember_. I know that I have to, but -- "

Teal'c stands, resting hands on her shoulders. "You will remember when you need to. In the years we have known each other, Danielle Jackson, you have never failed to be what your friends have required."

She raises an eyebrow. "How?"

He smiles. "You have been there when we needed you."

Danielle bites her lip. "I learned that from a friend." It shouldn't be possible, this friendship, but it is. She looks up at him. "I was wrong to blame you, you know that, right? In the beginning? I blamed you and I shouldn't have."

Somber, Teal'c shakes his head. "You owe me no apologies."

"Yes, I do," Danielle says. "I _do_ and -- "

"You do _not_," Teal'c cuts her off. "The time in which either one of us owed apologies to the other is long since past. You are remembering many things in a short period of time. Things which seem horrifying and the emotions they dredge up are distressing for you, but you owe nothing to any of us. _Nothing_. All that we could ask for, we received when you came home." His eyes take on a suggestion of amusement. "However, if you wish to grant us anything, I do have one request."

"And that is?"

"Please endeavor to never do this again."

Danielle doesn't remember whether or not it's appropriate, she doesn't remember whether or not it's something that either of them would do, but she decides that she doesn't care. What's the point of amnesia if you can't take advantage of it and hug an old friend?

Throwing her arms around his neck, she hugs him tightly. "Just as long as you promise me the same thing. Next time, there'll be no fireman fantasy to come to the rescue." And she blushes even _saying_ the words firemen and fantasy in the same sentence. She's sure that part came completely out of her head and that's a new level of sleezy. Saving a friend's life by indulging yourself in a fantasy that stars – she stops.

It's definitely new depths of sleeze, but hell if she can remember _why_. "Sorry about that, by the way, it probably should have been Star Wars, huh?"

"You recall watching Star Wars?"

Danielle tips her head back, grinning at him. "I should after all the times you made me. Bought you the box set for your birthday." Which Jack somehow managed to get autographed. By the entire cast. "And an authentic lightsaber."

"And attended two conventions," Teal'c agrees. "We must go again."

Danielle smiles. "Comic Con?"

He nods. "I will book tickets."

"It's a date," she agrees. "Providing, of course, we aren't dead by then."

"We will not be," Teal'c assures. "I will not allow it."

Danielle doesn't hesitate. She believes him.

\--

Cameron sticks his head into her room, giving the coffee mug in her hand a suspicious look. "Exactly how much of that stuff have you had?"

Danielle looks at it, having forgotten about it entirely. The weight of the coffee mug is second nature. She gives the mug some consideration, doing some mental math. "I, well, I forget." She holds it up, grinning. "I'm rediscovering an old addiction apparently."

"Well, coffee and you are kind of legend around here," he agrees. "So how many?"

"Hm, well, I'm still forgetting half my life, so I'm going to say not enough." She winces at the maudlin note in her voice. "Sorry. It seems I'm indulging myself again."

"Hey, no need to apologize to me. I'd say, all things considered, if you were dancing around here like little Miss Mary Sunshine, then I'd be worried." Letting the door slip shut behind him, Cameron folds his arms and grins at her. "So, asking how you're doing would probably be the dumbest question ever, right?"

"No, not really," Danielle puts the coffee down and looks at him. "I appreciate the concern actually."

"Okay, then, how are you doing?" he asks. "Beyond being frustrated as hell, cause I'm guessing that a having a blank slate where your memory should be is probably driving you crazy."

A laugh bubbles out of her, sounding bitter and weary like too much of her laughter has been lately. "Whoever said it would be freeing to start fresh is a damn liar. I have no idea what I'm doing, Cam, I don't know who I'm supposed to talk to or how I'm supposed to talk to them. Jack walks around like someone kicked his puppy. Every time I turn around he's there, just _looking_ at me and I know I'm missing something, Cam. I _know_ I am, but the more I try, the less I remember."

She sits down, rubbing a hand over her forehead. "I don't know what to do. I thought coming back here would shake more loose and it _has_, but not as much as I need and not the things I need to be remembering."

"How about we get out of here?" Cameron asks. "Sitting in this room staring at the walls isn't gonna do you any favors."

"I've been all over the Mountain," Danielle says. "At least, as far as they'll let me go. It doesn't help." Jonas has let her prowl every inch of her office, going over everything he's saved and then some from her things. Nothing has helped. Most of the pictures she's seen hold absolutely no familiarity. For all that she gets from them, she would have as much luck looking at pictures of strangers.

Keys jangle and when Danielle looks up, Cameron is holding a pair of them up for her inspection, a tiny grin playing around his face. "I was thinking about going a little farther than that."

She gets up, taking the keys. They don't look familiar. "These are mine?"

"Yep," he nods. "They were with your things when you, uh, when you left. I might've liberated them from your personal effects."

"They kept them this long?" Danielle raises her eyebrows.

"Well, uh, no one was really sure how long you'd be gone," Cameron points out. "Besides, there's no way in hell anyone was going to toss _your_ stuff."

"They thought I was dead," Danielle points out. "It's a reasonable consideration, Cameron."

"The higher ups did," Cameron says, "but from what I hear, nobody who was in that room thought that for a second." He steps away from the door, opening it. "Now, you coming or not? Fresh air? Sunshine? I'm pretty sure that it's just what the amnesiac ordered."

"And where are we going?" she asks, stepping outside. The SF in the hallway glances at her, but doesn't move. "And are we _allowed_?"

"I ran it past the General," Cameron promises. "He's okay with it. They can't really keep you locked up here anyway. You're not a prisoner."

"I just feel like one," Danielle says, sighing. "And you didn't answer me. Where are we going?"

He grins, smug. "Now that, my dear Doctor Jackson, is classified."

Danielle scowls. "I hate that word."

His answer to that is a laugh. "Well, at the moment, I think it's one of my favorites. Just be patient, Doc. The walls have ears and I _really_ don't wanna ruin the surprise by bringing company along. At least, not right away."

She shoots a suspicious look of her own at him, but nods. "All right, let's go."

-

When they pull into a driveway, gravel crunching beneath the car's tires, Danielle finds herself facing a familiar structure. "I know this place," she says.

"You should," Cameron says, but doesn't elaborate.

Danielle gets out of the car and looks up at the house. It's small, almost like a cottage, surrounded by a thick stand of trees. She takes a deep breath, letting the scent of the pine wash over her and, for a moment, she feels _home_. Looking back at Cameron, she's surprised to find him leaning back against his car. "You aren't coming in?"

He shakes his head. "Nope, I'm gonna wait right here. You go look around."

With a nod, she turns around, the right key already in hand. Her body takes her the next few steps, unlocking the door and stepping inside. The house is open spaced, wide and welcoming. Danielle steps down into the living area. She looks at the fireplace, picturing herself standing there, younger, a beer bottle in hand, Jack at her side.

"I didn't know what to do then either," she murmurs, "but Jack did." She moves closer to the fireplace to see the photographs on the mantle. "Charlie." Reaching out, she picks up the one of the little boy.

Jack's son. She sits down, dropping heavily onto a chair, still staring at the photograph. "I never met him." Because he died before she met Jack. Killed. Danielle swallows hard. "He shot himself with Jack's gun." Tears sting at her eyes at the image of Jack's face, the deep, unyielding grief in his gaze when she met him. She blinks the moisture away, swiping at one that escapes.

Of all the things to remember, she remembers this.

_"This is why you're here, Colonel, isn't it? You were never going back. This is a _ suicide_ mission. Why? Because of your son?" Standing over him, angry, watching him clean his gun as he tries to ignore her. _

"Leave it alone, Doctor," he finally says, "you wouldn't understand."

"No," she says, remembering the sound of her parents screams. "How could I? Horrible things don't happy to anyone else. Tragedy doesn't strike anyone but Air Force colonels named Jack O'Neill. Every eight year old girl lives an idyllic life and never watches people she loves die." He looks up at her, startled, but she doesn't care to stop. "And the people on this planet certainly don't spend day after day waiting for Ra to slaughter them wholesale. No, nothing bad happens to anyone but you. I'm glad you've cleared that up. Now, if you'll excuse me, Atim and the others are waiting. I think they're planning a luau."

"Danielle?"

She jumps at the sudden voice, fumbling the picture and nearly dropping it. "Jack?" she looks up, at him, standing in side the door. "What you -- " she blushes, looking at the picture. "Right. This is your house too."

Jack stands there, keys in hand, nodding belatedly. "Yeah."

Danielle gets up, putting the picture back. For the first time, she notices the other pictures. Looking at them, she can watch the years play out and two people growing together. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Kind of an awkward conversation to have, don't you think? By the way, Doc, welcome back to Earth, I hear you've got complete memory loss, and by the way, did you know we were totally shacking up? Would you have believed me?"

Danielle picks up a picture, looking at it. "After finding out I've apparently back from the dead on multiple occasions? " She brushes a fingertip along the photograph, tracing the outline of herself and Jack. "I'd be willing to take it on faith." She puts the picture back. "I remembered enough."

"Remembered what?"

She blushes, putting her head down. "Things." Turning around, she grins. "I, uh, had these _dreams_."

Amusement flashes in Jack's gaze. "Oh, _dreams_." He nods. "Right."

Danielle takes a step closer. "I didn't forget everything, Jack. Memories, dreams, bits of nothing and something. I'd remember fragments of pictures, faces without any features, but when I'd try to remember more -- " Frustrated, she pushes at her glasses. "It's half the reason I finally went to Jacob. When I heard him speaking and realized that he _knew me_, I had a chance. I knew I needed to take it. Malek and the others, they wouldn't have done it. I think they were afraid to take the risk, so was Jacob, but he listened when I pushed."

"And then Anubis showed up."

She nods. "And then Anubis showed up." Turning away, she drifts toward the bookshelf. The contents are an eclectic mix. "Some of yours and some of mine?"

"Mostly yours. The ones with the big pictures are mine." Jack says, coming up behind her. "You still kept your own place, but usually, you were here. Somewhere along the lines, most of your stuff migrated."

Danielle nods, reaching out to touch one of the books. She slides fingers over the spine, feeling the ridges beneath the tips, and she smiles. "I remember." The memory slips through her mind, settling into place with a quiet certainty so unlike the jagged battles aboard Anubis's ship.

"It'll come back," Jack says. "It'll just take time."

"Time is something I don't have." Danielle says. "You destroyed the Eye of Ra, Jack, but Anubis is still going to come here." She lets go of the book, turning around to look at him. "The person he's trying to find is here, I'm sure of it."

"Who?" Jack asks.

"I don't know," Danielle smiles, sighing. "I've been trying to remember it, but I couldn't." She looks at him, her smile turning wry. "Brilliant idea I had, huh? I hide the truth from everyone, including myself and hope that Anubis won't figure it out."

"But you still think he'll come here?"

"He knows I'm here," Danielle says. "I'm the last person in the universe that knows where she is. If he's going to stand a chance at finding her, then I'm the way he'll do it. He'll come here, he'll attack Earth, and he'll keep attacking until someone hands me over or he captures me himself."

"Well," Jack says, bringing up a hand to touch her face. "That's not going to happen." He hesitates for a moment and she can read the uncertainty and the fear. "Danielle -- " he stares at her, eyes intent on her face, and she shivers.

"He will, Jack," she insists. "He'll take all of this and ruin it. Take me and destroy everything. Make sure there's nothing he can come back to." She understands the feeling. She can't believe it either. Can't quite begin to trust this is real either. She wants to say it, wants to tell him, but the words just won't come. She stands silent, waiting for the moment to pass, for him to trust that this is real, and praying she'll feel the same.

Still, when his fingers close the gap between them, brushing her skin, she fights to hold back a sigh of relief. It's a strange sensation to miss something you can't remember knowing. It's even stranger to suddenly be reintroduced to it. Jack's hands on her is familiar and new all in the same instant. A lesson in contrast, really. It's comforting and exciting, easy and difficult, and Danielle's heart speeds up with the charge of it. "It's not that," Jack says, "but, that's not the point. We're just going to have to work faster," Jack says, his fingers sliding over her cheek to guide her hair behind her ear. "At least we know now that we're looking for a woman."

It takes a few moments to realize he's speaking, a few more to process what he said. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You said 'she'," Jack says, grinning a little. It's fond and familiar and this, she suspects, is nothing new to him. "I'm guessing that means we're looking for a woman." He looks at her, eyes drinking in her features. "You scared the hell out of me, Danielle. Watching you -- "

"Watching me die," she finishes. "I know." Her smile is weak as she adds, "I scared me too."

"Remembered that part, did you?" he asks.

"Yes," Danielle nods. "The memories that have come back are all over the place."

"Well, y'know," Jack says, "these things. What can you do?"

"Come here, apparently," Danielle steps away from him, albeit reluctantly, letting herself touch one of the pictures on the wall. "It seems easier here." She walks back through the house with him following. "How long have I lived here?"

"Kind of a complicated question," Jack says.

"How is that a complicated question?" Danielle asks, as she opens the bedroom door. The shades are drawn, leaving the bedroom cool and dark, and she crosses to a window. "How long have I lived here? Exactly what part of that's complicated?"

Jack sits on the bed. She looks at the spread beneath him. It's hers. She bought it in a market in Israel. She brought it over – she hesitates, reaching for the memory, and, for once, it stays. She brought it over when Jack was recovering from a mission. No, not recovering. She almost shakes her head, except the twist of nausea in her stomach. One hundred days. Almost four months. "Because it is."

She resists the urge to sit down next to him, to remind him of the blanket's presence. Of a day when she staked a claim she'd had no right to claim. Years later and she feels the guilt all over again, ducking her head to avoid Jack's eyes.

"Nothing's ever easy with us," she says, pulling open a dresser drawer. Her own clothes greet her and she reaches in. The nightdress on top, black and slinky, was a gift. A joke. She lifts it out, remembering the smirk on Jack's face when she opened the package, the way the smirk died when she walked out of the bathroom wearing it.

A smirk touches her own lips remembering.

"We like it that way," Jack agrees.

She can hear the smirk and rolls her eyes. "You're enjoying this," she accuses, turning to face him.

"Having you back?" Jack shrugs. "Absolutely. Last year wasn't exactly a cakewalk for me."

She remembers the sarcophagus, Ba'al, Jack in his cell, and looks at him. "I know. I was there."

"Yeah, I remember you dropping by," Jack says. "Nice visit we had."

Danielle sits down next to him. "I'm sorry. I know what you wanted, Jack, but I couldn't. I -- " She shakes her head. "I _couldn't_." The memory of yelling echoes in her ears and, for a second, she can see see Jack's face, grainy and pixelated on a small screen. The Replicators. He'd been on a sub swarming with Replicators. She'd ordered the detonation. Surrounded by military officers, Major Davis sitting at her side, and _she_, the civilian, had been the one to do it. "I killed you once, I couldn't do it again."

"You did _something_ though," Jack says. "They never would've found me otherwise."

She can see Teal'c, deep in Kel-no-reem, in her mind. Remembers whispering something in his ear. Slipping past Sam, working in her lab, doing the same.

A smile tugs at her lips. "Maybe." She looks up. "Cameron called you, didn't he?"

Jack gets up. "Nope."

"Liar."

-

Cameron is gone when they leave. Danielle's not surprised. She can tell a fix when she sees one, but this time she doesn't mind. Not when it puts her in Jack's truck, listening to a whole lot of nothing on the radio on the drive back to the Mountain. Home as much as the house they've just left.

She leans her head against the seat, watching Jack drive. "When we get back," she says, "I need to see Jacob. I need to use the device again and, this time, I'm going to remember." There's no other way around it. Her time's up.

-

Sam is there with Jacob and Janet when Danielle walks into the infirmary. She's fiddling with the device, checking her laptop, looking for all the world like she'd rather be anywhere but where she is. "Are you sure about this?" she asks, helping Danielle onto the bed. "You know what this feels like."

"Yes," Danielle says, "I do and I hate it, but what else can I do? Anubis is coming, Sam, and if we don't find out what he wants now, he'll break me the next time. I won't be able to hold out again. I know that." Not when she knows that, this time, Anubis will have her friends and her memories of them to hold against her. Another reason, she suspects, why she forgot in the first place. Without a family or friends, she had no weaknesses. Now --

She looks at Sam. "I can't let him do it."

Smiling sadly, Sam nods. "All right." She lifts the device. "This will pinch."

"I know," Danielle agrees. "I remember that part." She leans back against the bed, listening to the pillow rustle beneath her head. "From when it was you."

"Oh god," Sam says, paling. "You remembered _that_?"

"It's how I knew about the device. I didn't know it was you, but I remembered being on the ship when you were using it.." Danielle watches Sam go to the computer. "It's no understatement to say I probably wouldn't have made it home without that memory." She remembers the rest of the escape on Netu. "I guess that's twice you saved my life with that thing."

Sam turns around, a faint smile on her face. "I guess 'you're welcome' is in order."

Danielle nods. "Thank you."

"Are you ready?"

"No, but if we wait for that, it'll be a while." Danielle closes her eyes and nods. "Do it." Thinking better, she opens her eyes and adds, "Sam? As high as it will go." Before Sam can argue, she adds, "We have no time to play around. Not anymore."

"It could do serious damage, Danielle. If you fight it -- " Sam looks frustrated. "We just got you back."

"I'm not going anywhere," Danielle insists. "I can handle this, Sam. I know I can."

"Knock on wood," Jack mutters. "Just watch it in there, okay?"

"Always do," she assures.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Jack says.

-

_The sun was rising over the desert, turning the sand a fiery gold, morning was touching the land of Egypt and in the city below, the people were already beginning their daily routine. In the distance, the Chaapai lay quiet, but would not stay so for long. Yu had sent his Jaffa to his lands in the east, collecting more slaves to be taken offworld. They would be returning to their lord with their chosen bounty that day. The arrangements had been made, an agreement met with Ra, and a time set. _

Already, under the watchful eye of Ra's First Prime, they were beginning to assemble. Yu's Jaffa pushing and herding the cowering humans into place, disdain on their faces but fear in their eyes. Things had been tense between their lord and Ra as of late. Ra would take any offense as excuse to begin a war.

A smile curls her lips as she moves to look at the Chaapai. Ra would find plenty of excuses for war soon enough. Her treachery laid bare before him and he would try and stop her.

He will fail. She will most likely die for her betrayal, killed by her king's hand or, worse still, stripped of a host and her freedom and locked away for all time. Nevertheless, there is still a chance of escape. Her plans have been carefully sculpted and already lie in wait.

Among her children, her influence is equal and beyond that of her king. The fear of her children's reaction to her death might just temper Ra's rage.

Either way, the loss of her will hurt, possibly even cripple him. Ra's depended on her counsel for so long, wisdom and patience elevating him above the others. She'd tempered his passions and his desires while Hathor inflamed them.

Hathor.

Her smile wavers at the thought of her sister-mother. Even she is not sure of the truth of their relationship, Ra's stories blurring the reality into fantasy and mythology. Deposed and cast beyond, hidden away by servants loyal to her successor, she was little threat in her own right, but those loyal to Hathor still remained.

If they could influence Ra's decision --

She shakes her head. It makes no difference. Even in death, triumph belongs to her. To her children and her children's children. In them her anger, grief, and guilt would carry on. In the centuries to come, they could carry on in her cause.

Ra will not win.

In the morning light, Isis smiles.

-

Danielle jerks up, free of the memory in an instant. She feels a sting of pain at her temple, and looks down to see the device clutched in her hand. She looks at it blankly for a moment, staring at the edges tinged red with her own blood. "I don't believe it," she says.

"No kidding," Jack agrees. "You just ripped that thing right out of your head." His voice is calm, bland even, but Danielle can see the panic in his eyes. Watch his fingers clench into fists.

Dr. Fraiser's fingers touch Danielle's temple gently, probing the site the device had penetrated. "There's not much damage," she says. "But what on earth were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Danielle says, just a little absent. "I had other things on my mind." Which is putting it mildly. She looks at Jack, watching from just inside the doorway. "It's been a problem of mind lately."

"So we've noticed," Jacob agrees. "You mind telling us what was so all-fired important this time? Ripping that thing out of your head is a damn good way to risk permanent injury."

She sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "I'll be fine." She tries to stand, but sways ominously as she moves. Fraiser's hands land on her arms, yanking her unceremoniously back down onto the bed.

"Oh, no you don't," she says, sharply. "Gentlemen, Sam, Danielle needs to rest. Whatever she has to say, you can all wait until she's had a couple hours of sleep." She straightens up, giving Tok'ra, Jaffa, and Tau'ri alike the same stern look.

No one really argues, not even Danielle. She watches as they all file out of the room. All but Jack.

Jack likes to live dangerously, but for once Danielle's glad of it.

"C'mere," she says, beckoning him forward.

He starts to move, but Dr. Fraiser slips between them, putting a hand on his chest. "I _said_ Danielle needs to rest and that means you need to leave as well Colonel."

"I can rest later," Danielle puts in. She leans back against the pillows, head sinking into their starched surface. The sound of the pillow is, again, reassuring and she doesn't dwell on what _that_ implies about her life. "I need to talk to him now. This won't wait."

Fraiser looks at her, disapproval radiating from every feature. "Danielle -- "

"_Janet_, please."

Unimpressed though she seems to be, Fraiser nods once, quick and sharp, and turns away. Before she leaves, however, she stops to point a finger at Jack and Danielle gets a glimpse of the worry in her eyes. For a second, with that glimpse, she can remember what it's like to be Janet Fraiser's friend. She shifts, awkward and uncomfortable with the awareness that this is not the kind of loyalty she understands easily. Until this place, friends and family were transitory things at best. That Janet is still so worried about her, a woman who barely remembers her own name, touches something deep and the need to remember becomes a sharp, stabbing urgency that has nothing to do with saving the world. Just saving _this_. Her connection to these people. She _needs_ to remember it. "Five minutes. Less if you can manage it."

"We'll be good," Danielle promises.

She puts on her most innocent smile and gets a skeptical look in response. "No, you won't," Janet says. "_Five minutes_," she insists. "And nothing more."

"You realize she's probably got an egg timer over there. Five minutes and she has the SFs throwing me out on my ass," Jack says, sitting down. "All right, what is it? You've got that, 'oh god, Jack, this is HUGE, but I have no idea what it means' look on your face."

"I do?" Danielle asks. "Really? That's a pretty specific look."

"Well, you've got it. It differs drastically from your 'I'm sorry, Jack, I have no idea what you just said, but that's all right because I really wasn't paying attention' look. You use that one a lot." He tips his chair back, putting his feet on her bed. "Now, what was it that put said look there?"

Triumphant, Danielle lifts her head. "I remember what Anubis was looking for and i remember why I thought I had to hide it."

"Well?" Jack waves an impatient hand. "Don't just sit there looking pretty, give up the goods, Doc. What is our least favorite snake friend out there looking for?"

Danielle takes a breath, feeling as if Isis were drawing it with her. Anubis is looking for a second chance. He's trying to find Isis."

Jack blinks. "Isis? You mean -- "

"Yes, _the_ Isis. Sister-wife to Osiris, Sometime wife and Queen to Ra." Danielle nods. "Yes, that's exactly who I mean."

"No, I didn't mean -- " Jack frowns. "You always go right to the esoteric stuff, don't you?"

She shrugs. "It's a gift."

Jack gives her a look and she smirks. "What I _meant_, smart ass, is that didn't we dig her up in Egypt a few years back?" Jack frowns. "Cause I distinctly remember – no offense intended – the words 'Isis Jar' being uttered right around the same time as we conducted an autopsy."

"I'm getting to that," Danielle says, "It's somewhat of a convoluted story and I'm pretty much working off of complete speculation and a few scattered memories here."

"Naturally," Jack says. "Do I get to at least hear the complete speculation before we write it off?"

Danielle makes a face. "Okay, some backstory, we know that Hathor is, for the most part, the mother of the Goa'uld. At least, this generation of them, but from what I've been able to figure out, we only got a part of that right. She was the mother of a lot of them, and Ra's Queen for a while, but she was unseated by her rival. Isis. Which makes sense as Egyptian mythology occasionally combines Hathor and Isis into one goddess."

"Yeah, really not caring about that part," Jack says. "Bet it'll be _fascinating_ to the other geeks around the water cooler though."

She glares. "I am talking here."

Jack smiles beatifically. "Tell me again how you're supposed to have memory loss? Cause I'm really not seeing it so much."

Huffing a breath, Danielle tries to continue. "As I was saying, while Hathor did give birth to a lot of the original System Lords, it was Isis who was mother to the rest of them. Most of the major ones we know today."

Jack groans. "Oh, see, I have an idea where it is that you're going with this and I -- "

"Isis is Anubis's mother," Danielle blurts, not giving him a chance to write her off.

"Oh, so he's looking for Mommy," Jack says, standing. "Well, that's just _sweet_."

"Not so much as you think," Danielle says. "Jack, Anubis wants to wipe the slate clean and I mean that literally. He wants to become the new Ra, the new Supreme System Lord, and he means to do it by wiping out the Goa'uld race and fathering a new one with Isis."

Jack makes a face. "So, the world's biggest Oedipal complex, huh?"

"Yes," Danielle nods.

"I thought Isis was dead. Didn't we find her with Osiris that time? She was the one in the jar?"

"That wasn't her," Danielle says. "That's what I'm trying to get at. When Ra punished Isis, one of her children took her place."

"Still not seeing why you went after the Tok'ra about this," Jack says. "This one's more our speed, with the attempted genocide and galactic imperiling and all. We just have to find Isis first, kill her, and we're golden."

"No, we're not," Danielle says, shaking her head. "It's not that simple, Jack." Rubbing her temple, she breathes against the pain of the headache left behind by the memory device. "Isis isn't going to want to help him."

"Well, can't blame her on that one, her kid shows up with a _really_ sick plan. That's not gonna go over so good." Jack watches the expression on her face and pauses. "Not that either, huh?"

"No. When we found those jars, we thought that Isis and Osiris had tried to overthrow Ra and take his place." Danielle smiles. "We were wrong. Osiris might have thought that, but Isis didn't. She was the one, Jack. The one who engineered humanity's rebellion eight thousand years ago and forced the System Lords off Earth." She takes a moment, trying to organize the flood of information into something coherent. "We know that when a Goa'uld takes a host, they push the personality down deep. They can't bear to face the mind of the person they're invading or the horror of what they're actually doing. Isis had a host, a young woman who wouldn't be pushed down. She fought back for centuries. Forcing Isis to face the truth."

"Tough lady."

"Tougher than you think. It worked. Isis came to see the Goa'uld as abominations. She came to hate them and everything they were doing. Hate them so much that it culminated in a moment where she spawned Egeria." Danielle leans closer, looking at Jack. "Get it? We're talking about the mother of the Tok'ra here."

"Well, their _grandmother_ is more like," Jack says.

Danielle gives him a look, slow and considering. "Since when did you -- " She cuts off the comment as she sees it. The past year laid out in crystal clarity with every blink. Every attempt to fill the void she left, every moment when she would have said something, filled by his voice and pale imitations of her presence. She smiles, knowing better than to comment on it. "Yes, well, semantics. The point is, Isis is still alive. That's why I went to the Tok'ra. I was trying to tell them that they still have a chance. There is _still_ a Queen out there. If we can find her and get her to them, then the Tok'ra have a chance to stave of extinction. After everything we've been through with them, everything that we've put them through, it's the least that I could do."

"And you think that's a good idea?"

Danielle blinks. "You think it's _not_? Jack, I know we've had our problems with the Tok'ra in the past, but I don't think we have any right to start dictating terms about who has the right to survive as a species and who doesn't. Besides, we need help out there and not just for the Tok'ra. Can you imagine what this could mean to the Jaffa? For those for whom the Tretonin is useless? Rather than depend on the Goa'uld for their survival, they can partner themselves with the Tok'ra. They can build a genuine relationship together that isn't based on murder and be actual _allies_. How can we pass up a chance to do that for them?"

She knows it's a leap. She knows that there's a good chance the Jaffa wouldn't even think about it, but she also knows they have to _try_.

Jack frowns. "Yeah, but who says that the Jaffa would even -- " he stops. "Forget it. We'll worry about the finer poins of this scintillating moral debate later." He points at her. "For future reference, you're wrong, but, whatever, do you remember where she is?"

Danielle smiles. "Not exactly, but I think I can guess."

-

Malek and Jacob are in the commissary when Danielle walks in. They're sitting at a corner table, away from the others, heads close, talking quietly, with occasional furtive looks toward the door. They're speculating, she guesses, about what she saw.

Danielle sucks in a breath waiting for them to notice her before she crosses the room.

"Metit," Malek says, smiling at her. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better," Danielle promises. "I remember." There's a quiet satisfaction in the words and she wants to turn around, grin at Jack, throw up her hands and laugh. She _remembers_. Not everything, not what it's like to wake up next to him on a rainy Sunday morning with nothing to do but read the paper and eat breakfast. If they even _did_ that. She doesn't remember sitting in this room and eating, arguing, laughing. She doesn't remember writing briefings and recruiting personnel, but she remembers the beginnings and it's a start. "I remember why I came to the Tok'ra. Why I came back."

They both brighten. "And that would be -- "

With the moment upon her, Danielle hesitates. There are moments in every life. World shifting, foundation shaking, mind altering moments that remake everything you know past and future. Knowing she's about to pull them into such a moment, she can't help but hesitate.

"Tell me about Isis," she says.

"Isis?" Jacob asks. "Why?"

She smiles. "Please, just tell me."

"Isis is our mother's foremother," Malek murmurs. "It was she who changed. It is not something the Goa'uld wish to speak of, but the host may have – if given the chance – a great influence upon the symbiote within them. Our legends speak of Isis having such a host. A young Tau'ri woman who would not listen, would not be cowed, would not be sublimated. Isis thought her a challenge and stayed within her. She tried all that she could to destroy the girl's will, but found it hers that broke down instead."

"Story goes that the girl swayed Isis to her side. That Isis looked at everything she'd become and everything she had created and was repulsed," Jacob leans forward, arms resting on the table. "That's why she convinced Osiris to move against Ra. It failed."

"And we know the rest," Danielle nods. "Isis and Osiris were removed from their hosts and imprisoned in those containment jars. Fast forward a few thousand years, we find them. Osiris escapes, but Isis dies."

She presses her lips together, hesitating again.

Malek's hand touches hers, his fingers squeezing hers gently. "Continue, Metit."

With a smile, she sucks in a breath and blurts out, "We were wrong, Isis is alive."

"What?" Jacob asks, his voice cracking at the end. Disbelief choking the word on his lips. "What?"

She steps forward. "That's why I came back. That's why I came to you. _That_ is what I was trying to remember. Jacob, the Tok'ra still have a chance. Isis is still alive." She explains it all in a rush, knowing they already know this, but needing to say it anyway. Excitement and fear bubble the words up and out of her. They tumble and bump together, end over end, she messes up and starts over, but she gets it out.

She's breathless and blushing by the time she finishes, but this is the first time in a long time and she just doesn't care. "She's here, on Earth, she never left, Jacob." She looks at Malek. "I don't know if you were told, or not, but years ago we found two symbiotes imprisoned in jars. Osiris and, we thought, Isis."

He nods. "I have heard the story. It is when Osiris escaped Earth and attempted to regain his place among the System Lords."

Danielle blinks, sees Steven's face, and groans. "Taking my friend with him." As much as anyone can be friends with an ex-lover who helped destroy her career. "We thought the symbiote in the other jar was Isis. The markings on it suggested such, but we didn't realize at the time Isis was supposed to be a Queen in the literal sense."

"Yeah, you might have _mentioned_ that one," Jack cuts in. "We'd've known about it, we might have thought to look."

Danielle grins at him, but keeps talking, "Either way, we know now. Janet insists that the skeleton was that of a Queen, but, just to be sure, Garshaw is confirming it as we speak. If we're right, and I think we are, then she _escaped_ and, more than that, she stayed here. It's right there in history. Isis was the one who taught the Ancient Egyptians writing and a dozen other things. She _stayed_, Jacob. She was trying to make up for everything she and Ra did to the others by helping. She never left."

"But what makes you think she's still alive?" Jacob asks. "Forgive me for asking you to state the obvious here, but considering the gravity of what you're proposing here -- "

Danielle looks back at Jack. He shrug. Might as well lay it out there.

"She's alive, Jacob and Anubis is looking for her."

"He doesn't know she's Tok'ra," Jacob agrees.

"No," Danielle agrees, "he doesn't. It must have happened before he Ascended. Either way, Anubis did manage to discover that she survived, but not where she was. I did. Egeria took the secrets about Isis offworld with her and hid them. I found the records that Egeria had hidden and I destroyed them. Other than the Ascended, I'm the only one who knows where she is."

"So you ran," Jacob says, "came back and wiped your own memory."

She nods. "I don't know if hiding among the Tok'ra was a part of my plan or not. It could have just been that my subconscious memories drove me to them."

"Doesn't matter," Jack says, coming to stand at her side. "We're here, you remember, and we need to get moving."

"Anubis will come looking for me," Danielle agrees. "Now that I remember, there'll be no keeping the information from me if he 'questions' me again."

Jack leans forward, resting his hands on the table. "So, what do you think, Jacob? Selmak wanna go meet Grandma?"

-

"Heading out?"

Danielle emerges from her lab, bag over her shoulder, Jonas by her side, and brightens immediately at the familiar voice. "As a matter of fact, yes," she says, grinning at Cameron. He's standing there with another pilot, a spikey-haired man she doesn't know (or just doesn't remember and that's getting old), the both of them dressed for action. "So are you, by the look of it."

"Yeah, well, the brass heard that SG1 is off to save the world and thought they might need some back up." Cameron squints. "Can't imagine why, legendary people that they are, but ours is not to question."

"Just to make sarcastic comments and, if we're lucky, blow things up," Cameron's friend says, holding out his hand. "Major John Sheppard."

It's not subtle, but she appreciates the lifeline anyway. There isn't anyone in the SGC who doesn't know about her amnesia by now. The Mountain gossips being what they are, there's nothing – Isis included – they don't know.

"Nice to meet you, Major," she says. "Snakeskinner?"

He nods. "Yes ma'am."

In a few hours, she knows, this man will be engaged in combat. Anubis is coming. Ascended or not, she can feel him creeping over the horizon like storm clouds gathering before a hurricane. Anubis and his ships are coming and John and Cameron will be there to greet them.

More lives on a line she drew. Danielle swallows hard. What is it they say? "So, um, I suppose this is where I say watch your six?"

John grins. "Something like that, yeah," he nods. "And don't worry, Doc, that's what we keep Shaft around for." He waves a hand at Cameron. "Regular mama bear."

Rolling his eyes, Cameron cuffs him upside the head. "Someone's gotta be. Sheppard here's been living up to your name pretty much since them minute he got here."

Danielle frowns. "Living up to my name?"

"I tend to land in life endangering situations every other Tuesday," John admits, almost gleefully. "Twice on Saturdays."

Cameron's smile grows pained. "He just enjoys it more than you used to." He claps a hand on John's shoulder. "And with that cheery thought, I'd better get him moving. You make to Antartica before we even get to the Prometheus, and this is gonna get embarrassing fast."

She tries to laugh, but it comes out forced. "Too late," she says instead. "And Cam?"

He shakes his head. "No need, Doc. You worry about things planetside, we'll worry about the Jaffa."

It's never been the deal, Danielle realizes. It hasn't been the deal since the day she walked out on a career in shambles and into this place. They're all her responsibility. Every one of them. She turned the lights on, she brought them here, it's always going to be her responsibility.

"Sure," she says. "Just like always."

"You don't remember always," Jonas says, when they walk away.

"I remember enough," Danielle answers.

"Enough for what?"

"To know I never keep to those deals."

-

"We were going to take a private jet," Jack says, getting out of the jeep, "but we got a better offer." He holds out a hand, helping Danielle out. "Turns out, the Tok'ra have a sweet little ride that we can borrow."

Danielle looks past Jack at the empty tarmac. They're in the middle of nowhere, but she remembers this airstrip, if only distantly. The SGC uses it from time to time. "Tok'ra letting us use one of their cloaked cargo vessels, huh?"

"Yup," Jack nods. "We figure, flying to the South Pole in a cargo ship people can _see_? Really going to raise a few eyebrows. Jacob and Selmak thought a nice subtle cloaked cargo ship might be in order. Fortunately, they had one or two on hand." He grins. "I'd like to know where, but Jacob refuses to tell me. Something about me being a untrustworthy pain in the ass."

"They like to keep spares," Danielle agrees. She watches Jonas bound across the tarmac, falling into step with Teal'c. "I like him," she says. "Jonas."

Jack grunts, deliberately noncommittal. She recognizes the look. "He keeps up all right."

Danielle doesn't comment on that. She can be deliberately noncommittal too. At least, she thinks that she can be. It's the more adventurous part of all this. Never quite knowing what your own lips will say next.

"All right," Jack sighs after a moment of steady staring, "I _like_ him, all right? Just wasn't so easy in the beginning. I wasn't exactly in the best place when he got here."

She swallows. "It wasn't his fault, Jack. None of it."

"You remember?" he asks.

"Enough," Danielle says, shrugging. "I'm sure, Jack."

"Well, it doesn't really matter now, but I know." Jack waves a hand at Jonas. "He's not that bad and, yeah, it probably makes me an ogre, the way things went down, but it's how it went. Can't change it now."

"I told him I wasn't going to push him off the team," Danielle says, "And I meant it." She sounds defiant, even to her own years, and she almost cringes. Except she can't. She lifts her chin and looks at Jack, daring him to say something.

Being Jack, he does. Looking down at her, a grin tugging at his lips, he says, "Like I was ever going to let you into the field with half your brain missing." His grin is unrepentant. "I know it's not that it's all that different from _before_, but at least then you could use a gun."

Suspicious, Danielle stops in front of him. "You're agreeing to this far too easily."

"Well, I can't say that I don't have my own reasons for wanting you out of the field," Jack shrugs, "but right now, you're not in any condition to be going out thee. Before, it would've been "Sir, she's an absentminded idiot for whom I'm harboring incredibly inappropriate feelings, what with her being married and all, mind punting her off to a lab, but don't tell her the truth or she'll shoot me and she's a hell of a shot for a geek' and I'm pretty sure Hammond wouldn't have gone for it." Jack smirks. "Though, hey, we can still try it."

"No, thank you," Danielle says. "I'm a good shot, huh?"

"For a geek," he agrees. "Neither of you should have worried. Jonas isn't going anywhere, at least not because of us. It started out rough, but he knows what he's doing."

"Whereas I barely remember my own name."

"Well, that too," Jack shrugs. "Besides, we need someone back here. You were doing double duty fo a long time. Active field wok and managing the archaeology and anthropology departments. While you were, uh, gone, Rothman's been managing things. He doesn't suck, but -- "

"_Rothman_?" Danielle squeaks. She pokes Jack. Hard. "You put _Rothman_ in charge of my department? Why not Jonas or Satterfield? And what the _hell_?"

He grins. "It's slipping back."

"Right," she says, annoyed. "Don't think because my memory keeps cutting in that I'm letting you off the hook. You chose _Rothman_!"

"Satterfield doesn't have the experience, and Jonas? Jonas is a couple doctorates and a species short of the qualifications the brass was looking for. Rothman had all the right stuff on paper," Jack shrugs.

Which is about all he has. Danielle likes Robert, she does, but the idea of him running her department. "He has a lot of things on paper." She smiles. "_I_ look a lot more qualified on paper right now than I am."

"On paper, you look dead," Jack points out. "Anyway, Robert's managing, but let's face it, if you hadn't gone swanning off to a higher plane, he'd be on the unemployment line."

"No," Danielle says, shaking her head, "I wouldn't do that to him. Stick him on something completely unimportant and hide him in a closet, maybe, but not fire him. There's no way he'd keep to his nondisclosure agreement." She stops. It's a little unfair of her to be so uncharitable. Robert isn't _incompetent_, but -- she blinks. Wait. "How did I know that?"

"Like I said," Jack says, a gleam in his eye, "it's slipping back. You're relaxing. You should try that more often, it might help with the remembering."

"Later," Danielle starts moving again, heading for the ship's open door. "Right now, we've got Isis to worry about."

"You're in a hurry," Jack says. "You know something I don't?"

"Maybe," Danielle looks up at the sky, watching the clouds roll in. "Hope that I'm wrong."

She doesn't think she is. Anubis is coming.

-

"You know, something has occurred to me," Jack says, turning his gaze from the Antarctic skyline to Danielle's face.

Zipping up her parka, Danielle pulls her hair free. "Hmm? What?"

"Something has occurred to me," Jack repeats, tugging a woollen cap down onto her head. "It was very enlightening."

She looks at him, waiting for an explanation, but knowing she won't get one. "Well, congratulations," she says, finally, "but why exactly did you choose to share this now?"

"It's timely," Jack looks at her. "I know we're in the Antarctic, I know that we're on our way someplace important, but I have no idea where that place is."

"No," Danielle agrees, "that's true, you don't."

"But you do."

She smiles. "Kinda."

Jack's eyebrows rise. "Kinda?"

"Well, I'm sort of flying by the seat of my pants here," Danielle shrugs. "I know the answer is in there somewhere, but I can't _say_ where it is."

Making a face, Jack hesitates. "So, this? Kind of like how you felt when that Ancient whatsit was rewriting my brain?"

"I have no idea," Danielle says. She looks out the window at the ice flow below. "The only thing I can say is that where we're headed is right down there." Her eyes go to their faces, Malek, Teal'c, Sam, Jack, and Jacob. They're all looking at her with varying expressions of confusion. She smiles and shrugs. "I'm sorry. I just -- "

She shakes her head, rubbing her palms against her hips. The material of her jacket crinkles beneath hands that suddenly seem as itchy and restless as her whole body. "We need to go. He's here."

"We're too late," Sam says, going to the console. "She's right, sir, Anubis's fleet just appeared in orbit."

"We're not too late," Danielle disagrees. "We're right on time." She edges Sam out of the way, laying a hand on the controls. Her fingers move quickly, but confidently and she looks at her friend. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Doesn't look like that from where I'm standing," Sam says.

Danielle watches herself bring the ship to a stop, hitting commands. "I know. You should see it from my perspective."

"Try mine," Jack calls out. "We've got incoming." He sounds almost excited. "Both sides. Prometheus and -- "

"_SG1, this is Mitchell. Somebody call for a little backup?_"

"The Snakeskinners," Teal'c finishes.

"Right on time," Jack agrees.

Danielle whirls around, walking toward the rings. "So, right, like I said, going now." She looks back as she goes, making eye contact with Jack. "I, uh, don't seem to be in control right now."

"Definitely how I felt, then," Jack says, following her. "And by not in control, exactly what do you mean?"

She frowns, turning her focus inward. Unexpectedly, she finds confidence. "I planned this," she says. "This is me. All of this." Surprised, she looks at Jack. "How did I know how to do this?"

Jack shrugs, stepping into the rings with her. The others follow, crowding close. "Watch the Bourne Identity one too many times? I dunno, but I'm going with it." He rests his hands on her shoulders and leans forward, looking her square in the eye. "Just trust yourself. Whatever's going on, Danielle, you knew what you were doing."

"No," she shakes her head. "I knew what you all would do."

"_SG1, this is Hammond_," the General's voice interrupts the moment. "_I suggest you hurry. Anubis brought a lot of friends._"

"You think Isis might have something down there we can use? A few Ancient doo--" The rings whisk them beneath the surface of the ice, depositing them in a darkened chamber. "―dads. Well, this is different."

"It's Ancient," Sam says.

Danielle reaches out for Jack, grabbing him by the arm. "We need to hurry." She half-drags him with her, heading deeper into the chamber. "Anubis isn't going to sit up there forever. He'll figure it out beore long. One of his first human hosts was an Ancient. He'll remember."

"Remember what?"

She looks at him. "The weapon."

"What weapon?" he asks, looking back with a blank look on her face.

"That one," she nods at the chair. "Sit down."

"What?"

Danielle closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I knew Anubis would see it. He'd find me before I got back home so I buried it. It and a few other things." She smiles a little, things slowly shifting around to become clear. "I couldn't remember too soon. None of it would have worked if I remembered too soon."

"Remembered what?" Jack asks. "Danielle, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Sit down, Jack," Danielle says. "I really need you to sit down. I can power this thing, but I can't use it. It won't respond to me, I don't have the right DNA for it." She pulls him down, kissing him fiercely.

Some part of her, buried deep in the back of her mind, so deep that even she wasn't sure she could find it again, she shrieks a little YES! at the familiar sensation. She _missed_ this. When she didn't have a physical body or lips, when she had both but couldn't remember who caused the ache in her soul, who the wanting was about, she missed this. She missed him. She lets herself enjoy it for a second longer than she should before pulling back. "You said I should trust myself, right? You said you could go with it, that I knew what I was doing, well trust me, Jack, I _know_. Just, sit down, okay?"

Licking his lips, Jack nods, "Okay, I'll sit, and what do I do when I sit?" He walks toward the chair, looking at it with skeptical eyes. "Think we can get the game down here? That looks comfy."

"It's not," Danielle says, smiling, "but if you'd be so kind as to sit down and visualize Anubis getting blown to hell, that should be enough to get the drones moving."

"Drones?" Sam echoes. "Danielle -- "

"This is an Ancient outpost," Danielle says. "I saw it when I Ascended. I realized a _lot_ about Earth. I don't remember most of it now, my mind just can't hold it, but I could hold enough to get this done." Enough memory and, maybe, enough power. She looks around, mind searching for the image of the control circuit she needs. Her fingers itch with the suppressed power. Finally freed, it's flowing through her body like electricity looking for ground. "If we could find Isis and, hopefully, stop Anubis -- "

"Metit," Malek interrupts, stepping before her. "You speak of our Queen, but yet we see no sign of her."

"Oh, she's not here," Danielle says casually.

"_Danielle_," Selmak's voice, not Jacob's, fills the space between them with a warning. "You said -- "

"She's alive. She is. She's alive and she's on Earth, but we never would have gotten to her in time. We never would have woken her up and been able to prepare any kind of defense against Anubis's fleet." Danielle circles the chair until she finds what she's looking for. The text on the panel looks right. Dropping to her knees, she pries it open. "My plan never was to get Isis first." She smiles. "It was to get rid of Anubis, then go wake up a Queen."

With that, she thrusts her hand into the circuitry. The power pours out of her in a sudden rush, eager to be free of the tiny space she's trapped it in. The subtle itch of earlier becomes sheer agony, blooming into the feeling of fire all over her skin as the energy swallows her whole.

Dimly, she hears the others yell and thinks she should warn them away. Anyone who touches her now --

Try as she might, she can't speak. All she can do is scream until, finally, mercifully, she blacks out.

The last thing she remembers is the sound of drones rushing skyward.

-

She wakes up.

This is actually a bigger event than most people would think. Danielle's actually a little surprised that she does wake up again. There'd been some doubt with the plan as to whether or not she'd survive this part. Even Ascended, she'd never quite gotten the knack of physics.

"God, my head hurts," she moans, pressing a hand to it. Hey. She still has hands. Another unexpected bonus. If it's possible, ever single cell in her body hurts, but considering what she put herself through, it's quite likely.

"Gee, I can't imagine why," Sam says. "After what you just did? You should count your lucky starts that you still _have_ a head."

"Believe me," Danielle says on another moan, "I am."

"What the hell did you just do?" Jack asks, bending over her. "And what the fuck was that with the screaming and the power surging? You trying to scare ten years off my life, Jackson?"

"Maybe," Danielle says. "It worked? The drones fired?"

"Oh _yeah_," he grins, helping her to sit up. They're still in the chamber, but the chair and everything around them has gone dark save for the light filtering down from a hole in the ceiling. "It made a pretty sweet explosion. Mitchell tells me to inform you that we damn near blew his ass off with them, but we did take out half the death gliders and Hammond says a good chunk of Anubis's fleet went along for the ride."

"What about Anubis?" she asks. "Did we get him?"

"No idea," Jack says. "They're still trying to identify the wreckage, but Hammond is sure a couple ships made it into hyperspace before the drones could hit them. Odds are -- "

"He survived and he isn't finished with us yet." Danielle sigh.

"Or Mom."

"Or her," Danielle agrees. "I thought this is how it would turn out. Hoped otherwise, of course, but it's Anubis. I expected that he'd find a way to weasel free."

"Well, he did, but we bought ourselves some time anyway," Jack says. "Time enough to explain what the hell just happened here? Do, you, uh -- " he waves a hand at her. "Do you remember everything now?"

"No, not everything," Danielle sighs. "I needed room in my memory, Jack. Space in my mind. The plan was to bury the power and the memories so deep that no technology would be able to find them. I knew Anubis would have to retake a physical host in order to, er, well, propagate his new generation and, in doing so, cut himself off from the powers of the Ascended."

"And he wouldn't be able to read you," Sam puts in.

"Precisely. The location of Isis's resting place, and everything I'd need to _enter_ it, plus just enough power to, um," Danielle bites her lip. "Well, enough power to take the place of a ZPM."

Sam's eyes widen, almost dramatically. Danielle's disappointed when it doesn't result in a 'holy hannah'. She'd missed those too. "You were carrying – Oh my _god_, Danielle, do you have any idea what that could have done to you?"

"Yes," Danielle says. "At the time, I did anyway. I knew exactly what I was risking. I really didn't expect to make it through this part alive." She smiles weakly. "Much less in this condition. It's why I buried it and the memories so deep. Once it started to come out, there would be no stopping it. When I remembered, it was going to have to be in a rush, _but_, that also meant pushing my own memories a lot deeper than is safe. To be honest, Jack, some of my memories may never come back. I might have pushed them completely out of my mind. The rest, well, I packed everything together so tightly, that it's just going to take time for them to work themselves free. Not much else I can do to help them."

She takes a breath. "I do, however, remember more than I did." She looks at Jack. "And I don't owe you fifty bucks. You do, however, owe me."

Jack makes a face. "Think we can work something out? Say the price of a slightly used, but very awesome weapons platform?"

"No," Danielle says. "That's a present for General Hammond. You can't have it. Well," she amends, "you can _use_ it. I don't think the General can. He doesn't have the genes for it."

"The what?"

Leaning back against Jack, Danielle shrugs. "We'll worry about that part later. Honestly, everything is kind of fuzzy right now."

"Not the location of Isis, I trust," Jacob asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I couldn't forget that," Danielle promises. "I'm sorry I misled you, Jacob, but, really, I didn't know myself at the time. I _thought_ she was going to be here. It wasn't until the memories finally broke through that I really understood." In retrospect, it's one of the iffier parts of the plan, but there's not much she can do about it now. Not much she coud do then either. Not with the Others ignoring the problem and Anubis closing in on Isis's location.

"If Isis is not here, Metit, then where is she?" Malek asks. He kneels before her and she can see the frustration in his eyes. "Forgive my emotion, but you tell us that our most legendary Queen is still alive. That our mother's mother may yet save us from our fate and now -- "

"I go and pull a bait and switch," Danielle nods. "I'm sorry." She reaches out, resting a hand on his. "It's not fair of me and I wish I'd known then. I just didn't have _room_." She sighs. "She is alive, Malek, and she is on this planet, she's just not _here_. She isn't in Antarctica." She takes a breath, smiling at him. "She's in Avalon."

Malek's brow furrows. "I know of no such place."

"Well, you wouldn't," Danielle says. "It's an island that, until now, we'd thought was nothing more than myth." There's more to it, she knows that. A part of her is screaming that Avalon is the merest tip of the iceberg and that the rest is right there if she cares to look. Right under her nose and waiting to be found, but Danielle isn't interested. At least, not right now. Not with Malek looking at her like she stole his puppy, cancelled Christmas, and wouldn't let Timmy out to play.

"Excuse me for interrupting, Danielle," Jacob puts in. "_Avalon_? Are you serious about this? Isis is in Avalon? Avalon as in Arthur, Camelot, Knights of the Round Table, _that_ Avalon?"

She can't stop the grin. "Yes, that Avalon. As I said, mythological home of the Lady of the Lake, resting place of Arthur, and, as it turns out, Ancient outpost." Her mind reasonably clear, it doesn't take much to recall the image of Isis, standing on Avalon's shore, bare feet peeking from beneath the hem of an emerald gown. "Turns out, there's a lot more to the Ancients and to Arthur than we could've begun to imagine."

"Well, we're not going to find out about it today," Jack says. "You're going back to the SGC and the Doc is going to check you out. When _she_ says you're good to go, then we'll go wake up Sleeping Beauty." He helps her up, arm wrapped tight around her waist. "And before anybody argues, I'm going to point out that, up until this morning, nobody had a damn clue Mommy was even alive."

"Jack," Danielle starts to argue, but Jack presses a finger against her lips. She falls silent and waits for him to answer.

"That includes you, Danielle," he warns. "Now, c'mon. We've got one hell of a mess to clean up and I'm pretty sure that the General's gonna wanna hear about that shiny present you brought him."

-

Danielle wakes up to the smell of cookies. Opening her eyes, she grins at Sam. "You remembered."

"Well," Sam says, hitching a hip up on the bed, "You did, so it's only fair that I did too." She opens the bag, holding it out to her. "It's good to see you again."

"I've been here for a while," Danielle points out.

"Your body, maybe," Sam says, "but the eyes weren't right."

"They are now?" Danielle asks around a mouth of cookie.

Sam grins, mischievous. "Vacant. You're you."

Danielle flicks a piece of cookie at her. "It is good to be me again. Mostly me. There are still a lot of blanks." Her dreams are a jumble of memories. Images and sounds that follow no linear pattern. One minute Atim is dying before her, Apophis within him screaming with rage, the next they're back on Abydos, at the wedding with Atim realizing she was an unwitting bride. It's the last night she and Jack were together before Kelowna, then they're meeting their android selves, and before she knows it, they're in Ba'al's prison with Jack begging her to let him die.

She shakes off the images and focuses on Sam. "I'll get better."

"Damn straight," Jack says, wandering back into the room. "I smell cookies."

With a sigh, Danielle hands half of hers to him.

He slides onto the other side of the bed, making no attempt to hide anything as he wraps an arm around her shoulders. She gives him a look, they've discussed this, they had an _agreement_ and she's not sure she likes him messing with it.

He looks back and she sighs. She likes the idea of arguing with him even less. Shrugging, she looks at Sam. "It's just going to take time."

"Well, we've got plenty of that," Sam says. "Well, once Dad and Malek stop fidgeting we will."

"Bah, they'll be fine," Jack steals another cookie from the bag. "They're just pissed we're the ones with the shiny big gun."

"That we can't power," Sam points out.

"Must be a ZPM or two lying around _somewhere_," Jack says. "We'll find that too." He breaks off a piece of his cookie, handing it to Danielle. "Frankly, Carter, I'm not in the mood to worry about it."

"I'm not worried," Sam assures. She grins. "I'm kind of enjoying it. It's a relief to have some hope for once."

Danielle nods. "Yes," she agrees, "it is."

"So, do you remember much about it?" Sam asks, looking at Danielle. "Being Ascended, I mean."

"A little."

"And?" Sam prompts.

"I hated it," Danielle answers. "In the beginning, it was _amazing_. I can remember that much, but then time passed, things changed. I realized that for all the power, there was nothing that I could do. All I could do was watch." She looks at Jack, remembering the sick fear of watching him go into Ba'al's sarcophagus, feeling it knitting him back together, the naked agony of knowing what was to come.

Jack's fingers push their way into her hair. She debates warning him, but can't. Not when it means stopping those fingers from working their magic on her neck. She'll sit here forever if he keeps it up. "After a while, I just wanted to go home." She laughs, "The thing nobody tells you about Ascension? When you have all the answers in the universe, there are no more questions and that's as close to hell as someone like me can imagine. When I found out about Isis, it was a get out of jail free card. I think I would've permanently sacrificed every memory I have if it meant coming home. That I get to help the Tok'ra and save Earth in the process was a gift."

"No, Danielle," Teal'c interrupts from the doorway, "the gift was your return."

She smiles and shakes her head. "Have a cookie, Teal'c. We'll argue about that one later."

 

FIN


End file.
